


Spaces Between Us

by chooken



Series: Knee Deep In My Heart [1]
Category: Westlife
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Apologies, Awkward Sexual Situations, Awkwardness, Bad Sex, Bars and Pubs, Betrayal, Bets & Wagers, Blow Jobs, Bottoming from the Top, Boys Kissing, Childhood Sweethearts, Clubbing, Coming Out, Conversations, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dating, Dessert & Sweets, Developing Relationship, Disapproving Family, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, First Dates, First Kiss, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Topping, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Foreplay, Friendship, Homophobia, Humor, Kissing, Lies, Loss of Trust, M/M, Making Out, Marcky, Meeting the Parents, Misunderstandings, Movie Reference, Nature, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, POV Alternating, Parent Death, Premature Ejaculation, Radio, Restaurants, Romance, Romantic Gestures, Sex Talk, Sexuality, Sexuality Crisis, Shian, Smut, Snogging, Speaking French, Teacher Mark, Texting, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-22
Updated: 2015-04-22
Packaged: 2018-03-25 06:02:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 65,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3799576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is struggling with his sexuality and ends up obliviously the focus of a wager, when Kian and Shane bet Nicky he can't take a tragic lay and make him good.  Nicky didn't expect Mark to be so perfect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mark didn’t think it could possibly get more embarrassing than this, and he hadn’t even said anything. He felt utterly exposed, as though he was somewhere he shouldn’t be. It felt like standing in the middle of a stage and having everyone stare at you, even though the lights hadn’t gone up and you rationally knew no-one could see you yet. He was dressed all wrong, he was standing all wrong, and from the look on his face there was no doubt that he didn’t belong here at all.

He shifted against the wall he was stood against, staring out into the main drag of the nightclub district. Pulsing beats mixed with each other, swirling into the dancing lights flickering in front of doorways. Men walked the streets, lots of men. Some hand in hand. Some kissing in doorways. He tugged at the hem of his t-shirt, feeling completely out of place. His jeans were too baggy, he wasn’t nearly fit enough, he didn’t look nearly as good as any of these men. Why the hell was he even here?

Well, for a start, because tits just didn’t seem to be working for him.

He’d tried, honestly he had, but there’d just been nothing. He’d tried to convince himself, tried not to think about how much he’d prefer a nice hard cock instead of… god, he couldn’t even think about it, it was such a turn off.

So he’d finally bitten the bullet. Put on the most decent outfit he could find, done his hair up, and made his way to the gay district. It had taken weeks, after all the false starts and chickening out, but he’d finally made it. And now all he wanted was to go home.

But he had to see this through. He had to be sure.

He picked the club in front of him randomly and walked over, pointedly not looking at the very attractive guy that accidentally brushed up against him, but feeling a tingle start in his toes and race up his body.

Fuck.

 

*

 

“Who was your friend?” Shane asked, snuggling up to Kian in the booth at the pub, his hand wandering all over his thigh. Nicky rolled his eyes at the both of them. Kian stuck his tongue out.

"Uh… Michael? Matthew? Something?”

“He’s hot.”

“Yeah, he’s alright.” Kian replied, turning his head and kissing Shane hard, his tongue visibly delving into the older lad’s mouth. Nicky rolled his eyes again. The two of them were absolutely insufferable sometimes. But hey, you got used to it. “You look hot.”

“Mm… you too.” Shane breathed, and when fingers began to stroke through hair and down chests, Nicky felt the sudden, uncontrollable urge to cough.

“Ahem!"

Kian laughed and pushed Shane away lightly, but kept his hand very visibly on the darker boy’s thigh. “Sorry!”

“No problem.” Nicky rolled his eyes again, aware that this was becoming a habit. Shane picked up his drink and took a small sip.

“Was he any good?”

Kian shrugged, kissing his boyfriend’s ear. “He was okay. I know where I'm going for the best BJs in town, though.”

“Lads! Stop it!” Nicky yelped, putting his hands over his ears in emphasis. He didn’t need to hear this. “Indulge yourselves at home, will you?”

“But we already do.” Shane countered, then turned back to Kian. “So… what? Was he awful, or was he just not as good as me?”

“No-one’s as good as you, babe.” Kian grinned. “That’s why I keep you around. But anyway… both, actually. Fairly dire, he was.”

“How come?”

“Teeth.”

“Ouch.” Shane shuddered visibly. “How do they not figure out that it hurts? From a girl, I could understand, but men must know that taking a chunk out is not exactly comfortable?”

“You’d think so.” Kian agreed. “Or when they go the grab… ugh. Too much pressure, mate!”

“Or too little. Bloody awful.” Shane replied. “Or too much drool.”

“Or too little.” Kian echoed, grinning. “Or… what about that guy? Remember him? The one who just went shoving it all in? My throat hurt for a week.”

“Oh god, yes.” Shane laughed. “I thought I was going to gag! And then he just started shoving it right up me! I couldn’t believe that bloke. No slick at all, and he was huge! You’d think with all that meat to throw around, he could at least hit the right spot!”

“Useless. Absolutely bloody useless.” Kian agreed. “Some men just can’t be helped.”

“Agreed.” Shane laughed. Nicky took another sip of his drink. Apparently they’d forgotten all about him again. “Dead losses, some of them.”

“I disagree.” Nicky said, mostly just to get himself back into the conversation. Why did he even go out with these two? He always ended up sat listening to their exclusive conversations or left in the corner while they went and shagged other lads, or each other, or both at the same time. Couldn’t they just do that at home?

“Sorry?” Shane said. Nicky shrugged.

“I disagree. I think any lad can be good, with a bit of teaching.”

“No way! Some are beyond help!” Kian snorted. “Like, the slightly disastrous ones can be fixed, but some are so hopeless they’re… well, hopeless.

“Because you were always good in bed, were you? Even when you were a virgin?”

“Absolutely.” Kian said seriously, until Shane nudged him. He laughed. “Okay, maybe I had a bit to learn, but some guys aren’t virgins. They’re like… twenty-five and still useless.”

Nicky rolled his eyes. Again. God, this was getting to be a habit.

“I still say any guy can be sorted out, with the right amount of teaching.”

“Is that a bet?”

Nicky paused, knowing it was completely irrational to be rising to the occasion. Fucking Kian playing on his competitive nature. There, he could admit it. He was competitive. And, even though he’d only entered into this conversation in an attempt to stop the two of them having sex on the table, he did believe what he was saying. Anyone could improve in bed, with the right guidance. Of course they could.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well…” Kian shrugged. “We give you a hopeless guy, and you have to fix him.”

“Well, that was obvious.” Nicky rolled his eyes. Again. “Pick away.”

“We have to find a really awful one first, though.” Kian replied. “We can’t give you an easy one.”

“And just how do you propose to do that?”

“We test them.” Shane cut in, a mischievous smirk inching over his face. Kian laughed. Shane nudged him, grinning. “We find one for you that’s so awful even we wouldn’t touch him again.”

“Why do I get the feeling this is just an excuse for you two to shag around?”

“Since when did we need an excuse?”

“Fine.” Nicky sighed. “And how long exactly do I have to fix this hopeless individual?”

Kian and Shane exchanged glances, and whispered with each other for a second, glances flicking back and forth to Nicky. Finally, Kian grinned and pulled away.

“A month.”

“A whole month?” Nicky laughed. “Lads, you’re going easy on me!”

“And we have a week to find Mr. Wrong.” Kian cut in.

“A week’s worth of shagging? You poor things!” Nicky shook his head, chuckling.

“We better start getting it out of the way as soon as possible, hadn’t we?” Kian said, already standing up. “Where to?”

 

*

 

After a lot of um-ing and ah-ing, Mark finally ordered a drink and sat down at the bar. It had been quite an ordeal. Whilst his natural tendency did lead him towards a pint of lager, he did wonder whether he should be ordering something pink or fruity, or maybe something with an umbrella. Then he realised he was thinking too much.

He took a sip of his lager and turned to watch the other club patrons. He seemed to be the only one sitting at the bar – everyone else was dancing or leaning against walls chatting or… oh!… leaning against walls doing other things. He shook his head, not wanting to be caught staring, and looked away. He tugged at the hem of his shirt again, feeling even more out of place than he had outside.

This was so fucking stupid. He could leave right now, go back to his shit-hole apartment, open a bag of crisps, and fall asleep in front of the telly. It would be so easy.

And totally lonely.

The song changed, and he looked up automatically, laughing when he saw the bubbles floating down from the ceiling, hundreds of men leaping in the air to catch them. He caught sight of two men kissing on the floor, completely oblivious to the bubbles, and felt a rush of lust spike through him. They were so consumed by each other, their kisses deep and passionate. The blond ran his fingers through his companion’s spiky, dark hair, and Mark saw the dark one grab the blonde’s arse, pulling him close and grinding them together.

That looked like an awful lot of fun. A lot more than the thought of breasts had ever been.

Okay, he was gay! He would have to have been stupid to not know it. And he had known, on some level, at least enough to get dressed up and come out here. He wanted cock. He liked cock. Or he would say that, had he ever had any. But he had a feeling he was really going to like it.

His parents were going to shoot him. Fuck.

“Hey.” He looked up, breath catching as he met a laughing blue gaze. It was the blond from the dance floor, his friend suddenly nowhere to be seen.

“Hey.” Mark forced out, willing himself not to make an arse of himself. This guy was utterly gorgeous!

“How’s it going?”

“Yeah, alright.” Mark replied. “You?”

“Good, yeah.” The blond eyed him up and down, and Mark shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, ignoring the heat that had suddenly accumulated in his trousers. “You alright? You look a little tense.”

“Just a long day.” Mark smiled. This was really no different to talking to an attractive girl – though those had made him nervous enough.

“Aw…” A finger ran up the centre of his chest. “I’m good at backrubs, if you’re interested…”

Taking a deep breath, and willing himself not to blush, Mark smiled. “Really? I could do with one of them.”

God, he must’ve sounded like a total moron! But the blond just smiled and leant forward, pressing his lips right up near Mark’s ear. Hot breath rushed over his flesh, making Mark moan silently. “And anything else you’d like rubbed while I’m at it?” A hand slipped into his. “Name’s Kian.”

“Mark.”

“Mark. Hi.” Mark liked the way his name sounded rolling off this guy’s tongue. It was deep and sweet, and full of promise. He felt himself blush. “You got somewhere to go then?”

Mark pulled back slightly, not sure if this was going a little too fast for his liking. Bring this guy back to his shit-hole apartment? There were probably still crisp packets everywhere, from last night. And this guy might try to rob him… or something.

“I thought I saw you with someone else?” He attempted. But Kian just laughed and shook his head.

“My boyfriend. He’s off playing with someone else at the moment. God knows who.” Kian laughed again, his finger running up and down Mark’s cheek. “So you wanna go somewhere or what?”

“My apartment’s a bit crap…”

“Like I care.” Kian rolled his eyes, stepping back. “I’m not there to check out your decorating. You wanna go or not?”

Mark glanced at his face, seeing the slight irritation. This guy was unbelievably hot, Mark could tell that even better now he’d stepped back. Compact and muscular, loose blonde hair that stopped just above his ears and flopped in a fringe over his forehead, and clear blue eyes that reflected the light in a way that was just mesmerising. Not to mention he didn’t seem to be offering anything but casual sex – if anything, this seemed to be the best way to have his first time with a guy. No responsibilities, no attachments, no expectations. He could go back to his life afterwards and think it over, decide what he wanted to do next.

Despite the slight twinge of uncertainty, Mark realised he was nodding, and surprised himself even further by putting his drink down, grabbing Kian’s hand and beginning to lead him to the door.

“Where do you live, anyway?” Kian asked when they climbed into Mark’s car, fumbling in his pocket for something.

“A couple of minutes away.” Mark replied, watching Kian pull out his phone. “What ya doing?”

“Just texting my boyfriend. Let him know I won’t be home until late.”

“You guys must be pretty casual then?”

“Nah. Rock solid. Love him to death. But there’s nothing wrong with a bit of variety, right?”

“Erm… right. Nothing wrong with messing about.” Mark shrugged, not sure if that sounded right to him, but willing to go along with it. Kian really was gorgeous. Kian smiled at him and finished his message before sliding his phone back in his pocket.

 

*

 

“What ya doing?” Nicky asked when Shane began to rummage in his pocket. Shane pulled out his phone and waved it at Nicky before flipping it open, reading the new message.

“Kian’s gone.” Shane replied. “Didn’t take him long! He says the guy’s pretty cute, but looked like a winner anyway. Really awkward and nervous, like.”

“No virgins, we agreed.” Nicky admonished, thinking back to the half-arsed set of rules they’d drawn up before entering the deaf pulse of the club. “Too easy.”

“Not a virgin.” Shane replied. “Or at least Kian says. He wouldn’t go with someone who didn’t fit the bill, would he? We’ve only got a week.”

“You mean he wouldn’t go home with someone just because he was hot?”

“Of course not.” Shane replied confidently. “He’d tell me if he did.”

Nicky shook his head. “You know, I really don’t know how you do it? How can you just shag around and not have it come between you?”

“We trust each other.” Shane shrugged. “He wouldn’t leave me. He loves me. We’ve got rules.”

“Which are?”

“We always come home for bed.” Shane smiled. “No attachments, ever. If we see the guy in the street, we don’t even acknowledge him. It’s sex, that’s all it is.”

Nicky nodded, although we wasn’t sure he understood entirely. Sex and emotions were so mixed up, and trust was such a fragile thing… how did they keep it so simple? Not that he doubted it didn’t work for them – they were the strongest couple he knew. It wasn’t even that they just had fun together, they were so much more than that. It was love, all the way.

“Was Kian really awful the first time?” Nicky asked, wanting to change the subject. Shane smiled secretively, his eyes sparkling a little.

“No.” Shane said. “He was absolutely beautiful. I’ve never thought anyone was as incredible as he was that first time. I mean, god, we were both fantastically awkward and it was over way too fast… but he was so beautiful I couldn’t have thought he was bad for a single second.” He laughed softly, and his eyes cleared, though Nicky could see memory dancing in them still. “And that’s all you need to know.”

“Private?”

“Yeah.” Shane nodded, lifting his drink to his mouth. “I never want to share it with anyone else, ever. It’s ours.”

Nicky nodded slowly, a newfound respect for Shane sinking in. After all this time, he finally realised that he’d never heard a word about Kian and Shane’s sex life, only about the sex life they shared with random strangers. He only knew about the fucking, not about the… lovemaking.

“Hey, he’s cute.” Shane said suddenly, pointing up the stairs to a guy who was stood at the bar. Nicky looked up, not really able to see him through the strobe lighting.

“Does he look… you know… tragic?”

“Only one way to find out.” Shane downed the rest of his drink. “You okay to get home by yourself?” Nicky nodded, ready to go home anyway. It was late and he, regrettably, had work tomorrow. “Good.” Shane smirked. “Game on.”

 

*

 

“You often bring guys back here?” Kian chuckled, and Mark blushed when he realised exactly how much of a state his apartment had become. That was the hazard of living alone, he supposed, but there was no excuse for the surplus mess.

“Nah, usually go to theirs. For obvious reasons.” Mark fibbed, trying to divert the attention. Kian just grinned and allowed himself to be led toward the bedroom.

Mark swept the papers off his bed, and just in time too. Kian laughed and shoved him backwards onto the mattress, climbing on too and pulling Mark on top of him. Then they were kissing deeply, and Mark moaned into it, gasping softly when a large, square hand began to push into his boxer shorts.

Jesus, now this was nice. It had never been this way with the girls he’d been with, and they’d barely done anything yet! He’d never been this excited with them, never felt his blood fizzing in his veins when a hard body pressed up into him, something firm forcing into his thigh. He moaned again, tilting his head for an even deeper kiss and feeling Kian rock beneath him.

He got rid of his t-shirt, both of them laughing when it stuck on his head for a second. Then Kian’s was gone as well, and Mark hissed at the sight of the smooth, firm chest bared to him. It wasn’t exactly rock hard, but it was strong and broad, and Mark bent to trace his tongue experimentally over a nipple, giggling to himself when Kian moaned softly and tangled his fingers in his hair.

“You wanna suck me?” Kian whispered, and Mark groaned at the soft request, forgetting for a moment that he didn’t, in fact, have any idea how to do that exactly. He had an abstract idea, of course, from what girls had done to him and from that late night channel he got if the wind was blowing right. So he did as he was told, shuffling backwards and unzipping Kian’s jeans, yanking them off awkwardly. One leg caught on Kian’s shoe, and Mark swore silently, reminding himself that he should get the shoes off _first_ next time.

He finally got Kian out of his jeans, his heart racing when his gaze fell upon very well filled white boxer-briefs. His breathing sped up, and his head felt light. He was actually going to do this. God.

Kian’s cock was hard and full when Mark lifted the boxers over it. A hand tangled in his hair, pushing Mark down.

It tasted… god, Mark didn’t even know how to describe it. Bitter and, realistically, not that nice at all. But when Kian thrust up into his mouth, Mark decided that he didn’t really care. Not in the slightest. Not with this man’s cock painting his tongue with slick fluid. He tried to cover his teeth, and managed for the most part. Kian yelped once, but Mark didn’t think he’d slipped, so he hoped it was a good kind of yelp.

His head was lifted away from Kian’s cock after a few minutes, which was actually a good thing because he’d been about to gag, trying to take too much in at once. Kian smiled at him, something imperceptible dancing in his eyes, and Mark looked at him, wondering what was wrong.

“Do you want top or bottom?” Kian waved a condom at him, already ripping it open.

“Uh…” Mark started, thinking. “Top.” He replied quickly, not wanting Kian to see that he’d been deliberating. As attractive as this man as, he wasn’t sure he was ready for… well… being the bottom. Start slowly, right? And then see where that led him.

Kian was looking at him expectantly, so Mark began kissing him again, trying to stall for time. But Kian was rolling the condom onto him, so he did the first thing he could think of and began rubbing himself against Kian’s arse, hoping he was at least close to where he was supposed to be going. Kian made a funny little noise in his throat and grabbed onto Mark’s shoulders, pushing his hips up so his cock rubbed Mark’s belly. Mark groaned, the sensation of a man against him intoxicating and already driving him to the edge.

The last thing he needed was to embarrass himself, he thought as he felt the warning signs of his oncoming orgasm set in. So he stroked himself a couple of times and then began to push in, feeling the puckered entrance give way under him, Kian’s legs coming up to wrap around his waist.

“Fuck!” Kian gasped, bucking slightly. But Mark barely noticed, the tight heat around him squeezing so snugly, gripping him. He groaned loudly, barely hearing himself over the sudden rush of blood in his ears, feeling nails dig into his spine. God, this was just so good! Why had he been missing out on this? Why had he ever thought girls were a good idea?

He came rather quickly, disappointingly quickly as far as he saw it, and he hoped Kian hadn’t noticed. The smaller man had been making gasping, grunting sounds, writhing under him while Mark thrust hard into him. Mark collapsed, exhausted, and watched while Kian pumped himself hard a few times before coming between them, his seed spurting onto his own stomach.

“Wow.” Mark said. Kian groaned.

“God…” His face contorted in something that looked like pain, and Mark almost panicked, before watching the lad’s face twist into something else, something almost triumphant and pleased. Mark smiled, glad that he had at least gotten the sex part right. Maybe things would be okay after all. Tonight seemed to have been a complete success.

Kian crawled to his knees, reaching for the clothes that had fallen off the side of the bed, and dragging them on. Mark watched him silently, feeling slightly sorry that this was all over. Kian had been nice enough, even if their conversation hadn’t exactly been deep and meaningful.

“You headed home?”

“Yeah. He'll be expecting me.” Kian turned, smiling. “Thanks for the good time, mate.”

“No… no worries.” Mark stammered, watching Kian put on his shoes. “You have a good one.”

“Will do.” Kian smiled, fishing his phone out of his pocket again and opening it, to call his boyfriend, Mark assumed. But Kian turned to him. “You got a phone number? In case you wanna hook up?”

“Erm… yeah.” Mark conceded, even though he wasn’t sure he should be giving his number out. No complications, no attachments, no responsibilities. That was what he’d said. But Kian was very attractive and nice… there’d be no harm in giving his phone number. Maybe they could just be friends or something. It’d be nice to have someone to talk to in the gay community. God, that sounded so stereotypical, but it wasn’t like any of his friends were gay. It’d be nice, anyway.

Kian punched the number in then insisted on taking a quick photo with his phone. Mark wasn't sure why, but was too tired and anxious to care.

Then Kian left, waving goodbye over his shoulder.

Mark locked the door, returned to his bed, and fell into a sated, happy sleep, glad that another bridge was crossed.

 

*

 

Nicky let himself into the apartment quietly, as he always did, making sure there were no tell-tale noises from inside. But all that greeted him was silence, so he let out a relieved sigh, clomping in and collapsing on the couch, and wishing for the hundredth time that he didn’t live alone.

It wasn’t even the security thing. His life was so boring, he always ended up going out with Shane and Kian, who were barely any kind of company, unless you fancied a threesome. They were nice lads, sure, but he always felt like the extra wheel. Even numbers were what you needed, to balance everything out. Odd numbers were depressing.

He reached over and flicked on the TV, still too awake to sleep yet, opened a bag of crisps, and sat down to watch late night television, wondering if the wind was blowing right for him to get that sex channel, but too lazy to get the remote and find out.

Eventually he fell asleep, the colours from the TV flickering over his face. Same as every other night.

 

*

 

“Hey gorgeous.” Kian whispered, slipping into bed next to Shane and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. He felt Shane smile, and moved back a bit to allow Shane to roll over, smiling at the sleepy kiss that was pressed to his lips.

“Hi.” Shane murmured drowsily. “Good night?”

“Nah. Well… yeah. Depending. Got our first candidate for the bet.”

“Really?” Shane laughed softly, his leg hooking Kian’s and pulling them close together. “Tell me?”

“Well, I won’t be walking right for a bit.” Kian pulled a face and Shane made a sympathetic noise, stroking his lover’s back.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just… a bit… you know.” Kian yawned. “Barely any preparation, you know? Just a bit sore.”

“Should we be giving that one to Nicky, then? I don’t want him getting hurt.”

“We’ll just warn him.” Kian replied, snuggling into the soothing touch stroking his back. “Useless at blowjobs too, I got the dreaded teeth a few times. On the upside, he came, like, instantly. But then I had to sort myself out.”

“Sounds good. Or bad. You know.”

“Yeah.” Kian smiled, lifting his head for a kiss. “How about you? Any luck?”

“Nah, he was fantastic.” Shane smirked, a sparkle appearing in his eye and making Kian laugh. “Such a shame. But there are hazards when you start bets like this.”

“Of course. We can’t be blamed at all.” His mock-serious voice made Shane laugh, so Kian cut him off with a kiss, even though he adored the way Shane laughed. But, well… he adored the way Shane kissed even more. Shane sighed, pushing into the touch, loving the sweet kisses that were being lavished upon him.

“I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” Kian whispered, hugging Shane close to him. “Do you want to sleep, or would you like something else?”

“Sleep.” Shane replied. “We’ve got the rest of our lives for ‘something else’ and I’m exhausted.”

The rest of our lives. Kian liked the sound of that. And anyway, he was exhausted as well.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It was Thursday when Nicky popped over to Shane and Kian’s apartment and pushed through the open door. He took a step back and paused, eyes taking in the mess spread over the floor, pieces of paper everywhere. He stepped over a few and glanced around the living room.

“Shane? You here? Kian?”

“Nico? That you? Just a second!” Shane’s voice rang out, and then he staggered naked out of the bedroom, half a sheet wrapped around his waist. Someone seemed to be holding onto the other end, and Shane giggled as he was yanked back towards the bedroom. He turned to Nicky, grinning. “Just give us a second, we’ll be right out!”

“You know, you were the ones that asked me over…” Nicky trailed off when the door slammed, and shook his head, hearing them laugh inside the bedroom. He sat down on the couch to wait, and glanced curiously at the papers spread out on the floor. As far as he could see, each one had a person’s name at the top, all with little lists underneath. Things like ‘Peter: made funny noises, hairy. Well hung, nice eyes’, with phone numbers underneath.

Jesus, did these two catalogue their conquests or something?

Kian came out first this time, still tugging a shirt over his head, though thankfully the bottom half was covered with a pair of jeans. He collapsed onto the couch next to Nicky.

“Shane’ll be out in a sec. What’s the craic?”

“Nothing much. What’s all this?” Nicky asked, looking at the twenty or so pieces of paper spread over the floor. “You two starting a catalogue on people you fuck, or what?”

“Close.” Kian smirked. “This is why we invited you over. This is the list.”

“The list?”

“Of really bad people we’ve slept with. We’ve been choosing someone for you.”

“You…” Nicky glanced at the papers. “You shagged all these people in one week?”

Kian shrugged flippantly. “Well, those are the bad ones. We had a few that actually turned out to be quite good, sadly.” He chuckled, just as Shane emerged from the bedroom and slid in next to him, his arms coming around Kian’s waist.

“What the hell is your secret?”

“Never turn down a shag, always go after what you want, get straight to the point.” Shane replied. “Easy.”

Nicky shook his head. He didn’t understand how they did it. They were attractive, sure, but even they must get turned down sometime. And they’d only had six days! They must have shagged at least one person each, per day. How did they have time for each other?

“Of course, we don’t normally shag that much. This was just in the interests of the bet.” Kian supplied, even thought Nicky hadn’t actually asked the question out loud. “Do you want a drink or something before we get started?”

“Will I need one?” He asked. Kian laughed, getting back up and heading for the kitchen.

“We're not going to saddle you with some minger, don't worry.” Shane patted his hand now that he had his arms free. There was the sound of running water and then the click of a kettle going on. “No weirdos or anyone that's obviously a bit soft in the head.”

“Oh, cheers.” Nicky laughed. “Is that because then you'd have to shag them too?”

“Maybe.” Shane conceded. “Just nice, good-looking lads who couldn't find it with both hands.”

“Find what?”

“Anything.” Shane rolled his eyes. “I had one who couldn't get it in. Like, literally couldn't find it. I was going 'it's right bloody there, mate!' and he's poking around like it's an easter egg hunt. I had to grab him and do it myself.”

“Ooh, was that Harry?” Kian poked his head out of the kitchen and smirked when Shane nodded. “I had one like that. I wanted to get out those bloody paddles like at the airport and direct him in.”

“Who was that?”

“Erm...” Kian paused for a second, biting his lip. “Justin? Jason?” He came back over, glancing down at the papers spread across the floor. “Jeremy!” He picked up the paper, which had a picture of a blonde boy with a terrible goatee. Nicky squinted at the words underneath and yeah, it said 'Jeremy: couldn't get it in...'.”

“Felt like he was soft even when he wasn't?” Nicky read out loud. “How d'you mean?”

“You know. Like, he was hard, and it wasn't like drastically small, but it all felt a bit...” Kian raised a hand, flopping it from side-to-side in emphasis. “Indefinite. Like, I was sort of waiting, and then I realised, oh, that's it actually, and then when he came I didn't even realise. He just sort of stopped, pulled off the condom, and I figured that was it and jogged on.” The kettle clicked off in the other room, and he handed the photo to Nicky. “Tea?”

“Erm... yes please.” Nicky stared at the picture for a second, then put it down. He picked up another one, this one of an older guy, maybe thirty-five with an earring and a broad, earnest face. Nicky had slept with older, but it was still a good ten-year age gap. He glanced at the notes underneath. “Crier?”

Shane took the photo, glanced at it, then handed it back. “Yeah, it was weird. Nice guy, but just started crying when I was going down on him. I asked if he was okay or whatever, and he said he was fine. Wasn't like sobbing or snotty or anything, just had these tears rolling down his cheeks. It was fucking bizarre. We didn't even get past that, I was too put off. I just finished him off, spat, and left.”

Nicky sighed, leaning back on the couch. These all sounded painfully tragic and now he wasn't sure he wanted to still be a part of this bet. Awkward guys with no skills were one thing, but he didn't want to have to deal with mentals. He'd potentially have to spend a month with this guy.

Kian came back out with the tea and they all settled down on the couch, Nicky between them. Shane bundled up all the papers and they started going through them slowly sorting them into piles of maybes and definitely nots. The weirdos went first – Nicky knew the point wasn't to make it easy on him, but he wasn't shagging potential serial killers. The crier went first, then the guy whose apartment had been full of pictures of his mother, then the one who wouldn't take his socks off. Not that he'd left them on, just that he flat out refused to remove them. This was about having a decent shag, not about dealing with other people's crazy emotional problems.

After about an hour they were down to five. Two of them were very cute, one quite alright looking, and the other two pretty standard. They spread them out on the coffee table to get a good look.

“Right, so we have...” Shane pointed at them each in turn. “Andy.” He was a biter. Apparently Kian'd been nibbled on like a corn-on-the-cob through the whole process. “Martin.” That had been one of Shane's, a guy who just couldn't seem to get it up. “Jeremy.” That one seemed okay. Nicky figured he could probably work with that, especially if he could convince him to ditch the goatee. “Mark.” Nicky liked the look of that one. He had lovely blue eyes, but apparently couldn't suck a dick for the life of him, had come in about three seconds and had decided lube was optional. “And George.” He was really cute, maybe twenty-four, a little foreign-looking with dark hair, olive skin and almost black eyes. He was creepily quiet in bed, though, and had kept his eyes closed through the whole process. Shane hadn't been sure if he was enjoying it or even if he was awake, had been a little bit startled when he'd cried out on orgasm.

“Thoughts?” Kian prompted. Nicky sighed, looking between the five of them. He pushed the biter away first, then Martin. They were a bit average looking, and he didn't like the idea of getting rabies or something if it turned out Andy was secretly part dog. And not getting it up wasn't exactly being bad at sex, and if it was a chronic thing there wasn't much he could do. He looked at the three that were left. They had fixable problems, probably.

“I like these three.” Nicky pointed out.

“They're cute.” Kian nodded, picking up the photos. “But which one's the worst?”

“George wasn't that bad at the actual sex.” Shane pointed out. “Nice cock, gave good head, just seemed a bit like a silent movie.”

“Right, so...” Kian put down that one. Nicky was sad to see it go. He was really hot. “We have Jeremy and Mark.”

“You shagged both of them.” Nicky pointed out. They were both nice enough prospects, but Mark was a bit better looking. It was always the eyes that got Nicky first, before anything else, and Mark's eyes were fairly gorgeous, blue and expressive. Jeremy's were cute too, a dark, laughing green. “Up to you.”

“Mm...” Kian bit his lip, glancing between the two. “They were both pretty bad.” He handed the pictures to Shane. “You pick.”

“Erm...” Shane put down his tea, reaching out to take them both. He looked between them for a moment. “Jeremy.” He decided finally. “Mark could actually get it in, so that's a headstart.”

“Oh, thanks lads. Don't be too hard on me.” Nicky joked. He couldn't believe it had come to this. It had just been a stupid laugh in the pub, and here he was on the cusp of having sex with some random stranger on the merit of him being awful in bed. He didn't usually have sex with randoms anyway, not as much as these two did. He hadn't even been laid in about two months, not since that lad he'd been sort-of seeing had moved to Germany for work. He hadn't been gutted – they'd never been serious – but it had been nice to know where you were getting it.

Kian picked up his phone.

“I'll call him now. You sure you want to do this?”

Was he? He could bail out now, put this down as a bit of stupid fun and never mention it again. Still, a bet was a bet, and he needed to get out, spend some time with someone who wasn't these two. It was a good opportunity, probably. Expand his social circle and give him something to do that wasn't work. A project or something.

“What do I get if I win?” Nicky asked.

“A fiver.” Shane suggested. Kian rolled his eyes.

“Dunno. What do you want?”

“I dunno.” He looked around himself, trying to figure out what they had that he could possibly need. Their place was nice and all, they both worked hard. It was so odd to remember that they both got up in the morning, put on nice clothes and went and sat behind desks like actual grown-ups, Shane at an accountancy firm and Kian as a primary school music teacher. Nicky had met Kian when he'd been stuck as one of the chaperones on a school trip to the radio station.

His wasn't a very interesting job, just selling ad space for the broadcasts, but he wanted to get into presenting and all that and figured the ground floor was a good place to sneak in, make some contacts. Not that it was really working, but he liked his job okay. And then he'd run into Kian in the toilets, flirted a little bit for the hell of it, and ended up with a phone number while Kian had dashed back off to catch up with his school group.

He'd never ended up sleeping with Kian in the end, but they'd gone out clubbing a few times and things had gotten comfortable. A year later and Shane and Kian were his best friends.

“Well, if you don't win, we get to be smug.” Kian pointed out. “And if you do win, you get to be smug.”

“Oh, fantastic.” Nicky laughed, sinking back into the couch. “I do like being smug.”  
  
“You love being smug.” Shane agreed. “Tell ya what, loser has to buy the winner's drinks for a week.”

“That's not fair, there's two of you.”

“Extra incentive then.” Kian pointed out. “Deal?”

Nicky sighed, looking between the two of them. He could do this. He really did believe what he was saying. Nobody was fundamentally hopeless, not unless they had something genuinely wrong with them. Maybe they didn't get that, seeing as they only shagged people the once, but he'd seen it before, felt how good it was to take something awkward and learn each other's rhythms and quirks, sink into it after a few tries.

And free drinks for a week? He'd be getting blasted just to rub it in.

“Deal.” He nodded. “Call him.”

Kian began to dial.

 

*

 

Shane went to make more tea, stroking his fingers through Kian's hair on the way past and getting a smile in return. His boyfriend was on his phone, cobbling together a story about how they were supposed to set up their friend on a blind date and the guy had bailed, but that Kian had thought Jeremy seemed a cool guy and was he interested in filling in?

Nicky was slumped on the couch, looking a bit bemused by the whole thing.

Shane liked Nicky. He always had, since Kian had introduced them at a club last year. He was a really good friend, the kind of guy that'd give you the shirt off his back, would be around in two minutes if you called and said you needed him, regardless of what it was. He always seemed a bit lonely though, sort of tired in a way that had nothing to do with work. He did work hard, but it seemed like that was his whole life, like he was using it to fill up the empty spaces.

Shane knew this was a bet, he did, but he was sort of hoping it would bring Nicky out of his shell a bit, give him someone to hang out with. A month was a long time if the challenge was big enough, and even if he wasn't exactly expecting this guy to be Nicky's new boyfriend it might give him a nudge in the right direction. Nicky was great boyfriend material. He was kind, confident, funny. Utterly gorgeous. Shane had considered it once or twice at the beginning, but then they had gotten close and he wasn't willing to go there. No attachments to shags. Ever. It was too much like cheating.

Kian was just getting off the phone when he came back out, and Shane leant over to kiss him gently, pushing a mug of tea into his hands.

“Love you.” He said quietly, just because. Got a fond smile back that made his heart warm.

“Love you more.” Kian whispered. Shane didn't think that was even possible. Kian was his rock, had been since they were seventeen and eighteen and going off to Dublin together on this mad adventure, Shane's parents not at all happy about his being gay and Kian not even questioning their next step for a moment. Shane had to get out, and Kian was going with him, holding his hand the whole way and not letting go.

Kian's parents had been fine with their son's sexuality. Had just been terrified that their little boy was off on his own, not even eighteen, but Kian had hugged them, said Shane was where he needed to be, and they'd gone. Gotten into college, found part-time jobs and managed to drift through a half-dozen share houses until they could stand on their own feet. Now here they were, six years later, and Shane didn't know how he could ever possibly love one person this much.

He wanted that for Nicky. Wanted him to have someone who made him feel a fraction of what Shane felt for Kian. Something safe and warm that made you want to get up in the morning and go to work just so you could make their lives better, then come home and have them improve your own life a little more every single day.

“How'd it go?” Shane sank down onto the couch, handing Nicky his tea.

“Slight snag.” Kian sipped his tea for a moment. “He's got himself a boyfriend.”

“Oh no!” Shane laughed, surprised. “Obviously they haven't slept together yet.”

“Obviously.” Kian drawled, rolling his eyes. “Ah, well, back to the drawing board.” He looked down at the remaining photo on the table. “Plan B?”

 

*

 

Mark was just coming off his lunch-break when his phone rang. The bell was about five minutes from ringing and he needed to get back to the room and get set up for the next class.

He'd been doing the full-time teaching thing for almost a year now. He liked it well enough, liked sinking himself into work and spending his time thinking about lesson plans and all that. It was good, distracting, being constantly around people all day, not getting a moment to himself to think.

He'd been trying not to think a lot lately.

Trying not to think about the fact that he'd quite recently had sex with a man, which was something he'd been trying not to think about for about five years now. He'd tried. Had dated girls, had made a few futile attempts at shagging them, but had only managed to consummate anything once or twice and even then had had to get some pretty specific mental images going on to get that far. Specifically male. It hadn't been bad. But it hadn't felt right.

Shagging that lad the other night had felt right. Awkward and terrifying and totally outside of his comfort zone... but right.

He wasn't sure what the hell he was supposed to do now. It wasn't like he could be suddenly running down the halls shouting that he was gay. Which he was. Of course he was. It was bloody stupid thinking anything but, which was why he'd been trying not to think. But he was a teacher. In a Catholic school. He hadn't been brought up particularly religiously, not past the occasional Christmas mass and arbitrary lip service his parents had paid when his grandparents were around, but that didn't stop a good dose of the guilt setting in when he got to sit in at the obligatory school mass and listen to the endless sermons on sin and temptation and all the other crap designed to make the students keep it in their pants.

He fished his phone out. He kept it on silent in his desk during the day, but it was vibrating in his back pocket now as he headed back down the stairs from the teacher's lunch room. He didn't recognise the number on the caller ID and just hoped it wasn't a telemarketer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Mark?” He said that it was, in fact, and asked who was calling. He thought he recognised the voice, but couldn't quite... “Hey, this is Kian.” He must have gone silent for longer than he'd thought, but it was hard to tell the passage of time when he was having a mild panic attack. “From last week? We met at that club.”

“Oh yeah. Hi. I know. Um. Hello. How are you?” He was pretty sure he was vomiting words. God fucking dammit.

“I'm well, yeah. Hey, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night?”

Was he? Shit, what was today, even? Thursday. Today was Thursday. Tomorrow was Friday. Then the weekend. Yes. Yes, he was free tomorrow night.

Free for what?

“Yeah, I think so.” He hedged. There was a soft laugh on the other end, and he thought he heard someone talking in the background.

“Oh cool! Look, I know it's short notice but my boyfriend and I were supposed to be setting a friend up on a blind date tomorrow night, and the guy's had to bail. Then I thought of you, you know? Thought you'd get along alright, if you're interested.”

Oh. Oh! Oh shit. Was he interested? He didn't fucking know. A blind date. A blind date with some stranger he'd never fucking met, off the back of a random he'd guiltily shagged a week ago and intended never to see again.

“Um...”

“It's just casual, I'm not looking to marry you two up or anything.” Kian laughed. “Just thought it'd be a laugh to have a night out. Go to the movies, maybe, then go have a few drinks, the four of us?”

That sounded okay. A few drinks. Casual. He could do that. And if they went to the movies he probably wouldn't even have to talk that much, could just sort of take it all in and decide what he wanted to do next. He was a little flattered, despite the terror, that Kian had even thought of him. He probably had lads lined up around the block with the way he had acted. The way he looked. And he'd thought of Mark, who he'd known for a total of half an hour and had barely said two words to.

“Yeah, okay.” It was hard to get the words out through the panic. “When? Where?”

“Erm... we can meet at the cinemas if you like...” There was a pause and he heard the sound of paper moving. “There's a Pirates of Caribbean session at eight-thirty. You seen it yet?”

“No. Looks good, though.”

“Yeah, Shane's been banging on about wanting to see it. My boyfriend.” He added in explanation. “Just a second.” His voice was muffled for a moment. “Babe, you still wanna see Pirates?” He called out. There was an unintelligible reply. “Cool, yeah. Okay, well we'll meet you at eight outside Point Village Cinemas. Work for you?”

“Yeah. Sounds fine.” Mark managed. “Erm... okay.”

“Fantastic. I'll text you my number in case something happens. Thanks mate, you're a life saver.” There was a smile in his voice and Mark couldn't help smile back. He was nervous as hell, but Kian seemed welcoming and friendly enough. His friends were probably pretty cool too.

“No... no problems.” The bell rang, and he quickened his steps as students began to file back into the halls, realising he'd just about stopped walking while he was talking on the phone. “I'm sorry, I have to go, but...”

“No problems. I'll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

“Yeah. See you then. Have a... good day.” God, that sounded weak as hell. Kian laughed and a moment later the call ended. Mark headed back into the room, plonking behind his desk as the first students started to drift back in. His phone beeped a moment later and he quickly saved the number on screen before turning it to silent and shoving it back in his desk.

He was halfway through the lesson before he realised he'd never asked his date's name.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Mark got to the cinemas an hour early. Mostly because he was terrified of being late, partly because he felt like if he stood there long enough he'd have time to think about why this was a stupid idea and cut and run before anybody else arrived.

He ended up going around the corner to a pub and sitting down. He got himself a beer, wanting to calm his nerves a little bit. He considered another one but didn't want to show up tipsy or smelling of alcohol. He kept catching sight of himself in the reflection of the window nearby, then stopped looking when he started to freak out. He hadn't known what to wear, whether he should be dressed up or whether this was a jeans and t-shirt sort of thing. So he'd compromised on a pair of dress jeans and a green button-up shirt with a brown leather jacket he'd gotten for his birthday from his mother.

He played with the collar of it, trying to make it look respectable. It had been a good birthday, taking a long weekend and heading back west to visit his family for a few days. Twenty-three wasn't very interesting, not like twenty-one had been, but it had been nice seeing everyone again.

He didn't really know how they'd react if they found out he was... what he was. Most of him thought it was probably going to be fine. His parents had never shown any sign of being homophobic, but it was that last horrible step, making the declaration, making it all real in his head, having them know it. He wasn't sure if he had himself figured out enough to make an announcement. And while he didn't say anything, he didn't have to find out what the reaction would be. It was just easier. Safer and easier.

This wasn't easy, sitting in a pub staring blankly between his watch and a newspaper he wasn't reading.

Eight o'clock felt hours away.

It was seven twenty-six and nineteen seconds.

Fucking hell.

 

*

 

Kian and Shane were running late. Partly because Shane hadn't been able to find his wallet, and partly because Kian had seen the jeans he was wearing and needed to get him out of them as soon as possible. It wasn't even an option, he just had to get them on the floor and have Shane's cock in his mouth or actually risk dying if he didn't.

Fingers had twisted in his hair, Shane's surprised gasps filling the upstairs hallway when Kian had slammed him against the wall and swallowed him down, felt Shane harden quickly in his mouth, felt that taste flood his mouth minutes later, heard the ragged cries of Shane coming. Stood back up to kiss him hard, utterly turned on by the groans at the shared taste, the feel of a tongue licking the last slick remnants of Shane's own juice from his mouth.

“So love you.” Shane had murmured, and Kian had felt his head hit the wall when he was turned around and Shane sank to his knees, gulping him down with perfect enthusiasm.

They'd tidied themselves up, dashed down the road to the train station and just made the next one, snuggling into a seat together and smelling the comforting, slightly sweaty scent of his boyfriend against him.

It was ten past eight when they arrived, and Nicky was already standing outside, tapping his foot. Kian grinned, raising a hand in welcome.

“You're late.”

“Shane couldn't find his wallet.” Kian explained. Got a small, secret smile from his boyfriend. Nicky rolled his eyes, obviously not buying it.

“Any sign of Mark?”

“Yeah, he just went into the toilets.” Nicky said quietly, then blushed a little bit. Which was interesting. “Erm... I sort of watched him. Didn't want to be going up and saying hi when I probably shouldn't know what he looks like. Seemed a bit weird. Which wouldn't have been a problem if you weren't late.” He glared at them.

“Sorry Nix.” Shane shrugged. “You get the tickets?”

“Yep.” Nicky fished in his pocket, pulled out a string of tickets and began to separate them. Kian took his, tucking it into his shirt pocket. Nicky looked hot, was wearing ripped jeans, a tight grey t-shirt, and a dark blue leather jacket, his hair carefully spiked up. “Oh, there he is.”

They looked over. And yeah, that was Mark coming out of the toilets, looking around himself expectantly. He looked nice enough in a brown leather jacket and dark blue jeans, though he was sort of biting his lip. A bit nervous, an impression Kian had gotten at the club when he'd been chatting him up. He lifted a hand, calling out Mark's name. Saw the gaze shoot up in surprise, and then a thin, anxious smile quirk his lips. Kian grinned, waving him over.

 

*

 

Oh. Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god. Oh god.

Mark's legs felt like lead as he walked over. He'd been about ready to leave. He knew ten minutes wasn't huge in the grand scheme of things, but he'd been back here for almost half an hour after he'd gotten too anxious waiting at the pub. He'd used the toilets about four times, just for something to do, and because his bladder had gotten the message that he was panicking.

He'd been standing around, wondering if he should buy tickets or wait for the others. The place had been pretty packed but he didn't know if they'd already bought tickets, or if they'd even show up. Maybe they wouldn't. Maybe it had all been a joke or something. He didn't know what the joke would be, but he wasn't exactly thinking sensibly. Obviously he wasn't, or he wouldn't be on a blind date with some friend of a guy he'd shagged in a blind moment of resolve.

Kian was standing with a brunette, their arms around each other's waists. The boyfriend, obviously. Shane. They looked right together, were of about the same height and had open, friendly faces when they turned to look at him. The other one was a taller blonde boy who Mark had actually seen lurking around outside before and had taken a moment to admire. He was really cute, had a way of standing that was all confidence and impatience, as though he was waiting for the world to live up to his standards. Mark didn't know if he could do that. He was pretty sure he couldn't. But his feet had carried him into their presence without him realising it, and hellos were being said and he was being introduced.

Nicky.

He smiled at Mark, giving him a pouting smirk that was thoroughly sexy and nicely welcoming. They shook hands, and then Nicky handed him his ticket and asked if anyone else wanted popcorn. Mark said yes, even though he wasn't sure he could eat anything without throwing up. They got a large one to split, and a frozen coke each. Mark sipped his, following them up the stairs to their cinema with only a few minutes to go.

They sat down, him on the end next to Nicky. Nicky smiled at him, offered him some popcorn. Mark took a handful, wondering what to say. Then the lights were going down and he didn't have to.

He settled in for the previews, very aware of Nicky's presence next to him.

 

*

 

Nicky had made it to the movie twenty minutes early, had wandered in to grab the tickets before the queue got too long and it was sold out.

Mark had walked in two minutes later.

Nicky recognised him from the picture, considered going over for a minute and saying hi, but figured that would just be awkward. So he went back outside to wait for the others, watching the brunette out of the corner of his eye.

He was cute. He'd known that already. He looked nervous, too, kept getting up and sitting back down again, looking at his watch. Went to the toilets a few times. Came back out. At one point he looked like he had made up his mind to leave, then he settled again, sitting on one of the benches near the concession stand, digging some chewing gum out of his pocket and popping it in his mouth. He'd thrown it away about two minutes later though, and gone back to sit down, glancing at his watch again.

It was sort of adorable.

They were sitting in the dark now, waiting through the obligatory twenty minutes of commercials for beer and cars and local businesses before the previews. Shane and Kian were giggling over something, obviously still post-coital despite what they'd said. Nicky had known them long enough to know when they'd been shagging, and he didn't believe their story of Shane's lost wallet for a second. This was why he needed more friends. He glanced at Mark, who was staring fixedly at the screen, the straw to his frozen coke between his lips.

“You looking forward to seeing this?” Nicky asked. Mark jumped a little, startled, then looked at him shyly.

“Erm... yeah. Looks fun, you know? My brother saw it last week, said it was good.”

“And Orlando Bloom doesn't hurt.” Nicky winked, got a smile in return.

“No, not at all.” He laughed softly. “Johnny Depp too, so...”

“Bit of a bonanza.” Nicky agreed, tilting the bucket of popcorn in invitation. Mark took a small handful, began to eat it slowly out of his hand. “You have a brother?”

“Two.” He swallowed, blushing a little bit. “Younger. You have any brothers? Siblings?”

“Younger brother, older sister.” Nicky stated. “You get on alright?”

“Yeah. They live in the country, you know? So I try to visit as much as I can. I don't know many people in Dublin yet. I'm always at work.”

“Tell me about it.” Nicky rolled his eyes, got a laughing smile in return. “What do you do?”

“Erm... I'm a teacher. French and History.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “It's a bit um...” He shrugged. “Can't really say I'm gay, you know? Catholic school. So my dating options are a bit...” He sipped his drink for a moment, looking thoughtful. “I like it though. I like the kids and that. It's just... awkward.”

“It's okay, I've been out of the dating game for a bit meself.” He said honestly. “I'm out, that's not an issue, it's just a time thing. Kian and Shane keep trying to get me to meet people, but it's easier to just shag around at the moment. Not really my scene, but you take what you can get. You know yourself, right? Heard you and Kian...”

“Yeah. Ehm.” Mark went bright red. “Wasn't really planning on that one. My place was a tip. He just sort of came up and I was like...” He stole another handful of popcorn. “I don't know. I figured why not, just a one-night thing. Didn't expect to get a date out of it. Not with someone else, anyway.” He laughed slightly. Nicky grinned, and they both reached into the bucket at the same time, their fingers brushing together. Mark's hand jerked back a little in surprise.

“Not too disappointing, I hope?”

“No, not at all. Just surprising.” He looked at Nicky, biting his lip, then reached back into the bucket. “What do you do?”

They fell into conversation, and by the time the movie started Nicky was almost disappointed that they had to stop talking. Mark seemed to be a little less shy, was asking questions and looking really interested in the answers, which Nicky thought was weird. Usually his dates looked more interested in keeping the conversation rolling just far enough to end up in the bedroom. But Mark was asking him about his job, was asking real questions about what he did, looking fascinated when Nicky talked about things even he found boring. They poked fun at the previews, mentioned which ones they both wanted to see, pulled faces at the ones that looked crap.

Halfway through the movie, Nicky realised he was out of frozen coke. He heard the sharp, empty suck, the rattle of flavourless ice in the bottom of the cup. He pulled a face, put it back in the cupholder and considered going to get another one. A moment later Mark was popping the top off his own cup and holding it out over Nicky's, the flat end of the straw poised like a question. Nicky nodded, popped his own lid off, and then Mark was scooping half his drink into Nicky's empty cup. Nicky replaced the lid and leaned over.

“Thanks.”

“It's cool.” Mark whispered back. “There's a balance. You get all salty from the popcorn otherwise.”

“My hero.” Nicky murmured. Mark laughed, sipping the remains of his own drink. Nicky grinned, settling back in his seat to watch the movie.

 

*

 

The pub was loud. There was a band in the corner, belting out a Bon Jovi song at the top of their lungs, and apparently karaoke was promised later on in the night. Mark had offered to get the first round, figured it couldn't hurt if he was going to be friends with these lads. He came back with four beers, put them down on the table and sank into the booth next to Nicky. Kian was sat on the other side, Shane leaned against his shoulder, yawning a little bit.

“Aw, you sleepy?” Nicky laughed.

“Shut up. I had a big week.”

“Getting old.” Kian observed, kissing his hair. For a moment Mark had to remind himself that he'd actually shagged this bloke. They were all cute and wrapped up in each other, looking totally solid. Utterly comfortable with each other.

“Am not.” Shane retorted, sitting up straight. “I'm only bloody twenty-four. Nicky's the old one.”

“I'm twenty-four too!” Nicky shot back.

“You'll be twenty-five soon.” Kian pointed out. “Only another couple of months.”

“Don't remind me.” Nicky grumbled. Mark looked at him, taking a sip of his beer. “You'd better throw me a party. I expect presents.”

“Expect away.” Kian raised an eyebrow. Mark laughed, biting his lip when he realised they were all looking at him. “How old are you?”

“Erm... I was twenty-three in May.”

“Hey, 1980! Quality year!” Kian leaned over to high five him. “We're only about a month apart then. Where were you born?”

“Oh, you've probably not heard of it. It's just this village. Calry. It's about ten minutes...”

“Outside of Sligo!” Kian exclaimed. “I'm from Sligo! We are...” He gestured between he and Shane. “Do I know your family? What's your last name?”

“Feehily.”

“No, no idea.” Kian squinted. “We didn't go to school together, did we?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. He was pretty sure he'd remember, anyway. “I went to primary school there, but dad's a contractor and we moved around a lot. I did my high school in about six different counties in the end.”

“That's mad.” Kian shook his head. “Nicky, he's from Sligo!”

“I heard.” Nicky laughed, giving Mark a smile. It was a sweet smile. Sort of apologetic as Nicky looked at his friends over his beer. “So are lots of people.”

“Yeah, but...” Kian rolled his eyes. “Ah fuck it, he doesn't get it. Sligo pride, lad.”

“Yeah, Sligo pride.” Shane said flatly. Kian bit his lip, looking down with sudden concern.

“I didn't mean...”

“I know, it's fine.” Shane cut him off, picking up his beer. Kian stared at him for a moment, then kissed his forehead. Mark watched the exchange, not sure what that was about.

“And Mark's a teacher too.” Nicky interjected. “Peas in a pod, you two.”

“You're a teacher?” Mark asked, trying to divert the conversation from the discomfort that had suddenly settled. “What do you teach?”

“Music. Primary.” Kian nodded. Shane got up, excused himself for the bathroom. Kian watched him go, then looked back at them. “You?”  


“French. History. Highschool.”

“That's grand.” Kian laughed, reaching out for his beer again. He sipped it for a moment, then put it back down, his eyes darting in the direction Shane had gone. “Look, I gotta pee too. Back in a minute, lads.” He hurried away. Mark looked back at Nicky, saw a concerned grimace.

“Everything okay?”

“Probably, yeah.” Nicky sighed. They looked at each other for a moment, Mark not at all sure what to say. The older boy sat up, reaching for Mark's half-empty beer. A moment later it was full again, and Nicky's was a bit emptier. Mark gave him a questioning look, got a bright smile in reply. “Paying you back, for before.”

“Oh, you didn't have to.”

“I did.” Nicky laughed, putting a hand over his. It was a warm grip, and sure. “It's a delicate balance or something, yeah? I'm starving, anyway, so we'll need the beer to sort out the hot sauce on the chicken wings I'm about to order. You want some?”

“Sounds good.” He moved back when Nicky gestured, sliding sideways out of the booth so the blonde could climb out. He watched him walk away, feeling a little bad about staring at his arse when he leant over the bar. Feeling a little great as well, when Nicky turned around and smiled at him. He waved back, trying not to feel like an utter eejit.

 

*

 

“Shane.” Kian leaned against the stall door, feeling the lock give slightly under his weight. “You okay?”

“I'm fine. I'm just trying to take a shit.” Shane called back. Kian laughed, not at all fooled but still loving the bluntness in his partner's voice. “I'll be out in a minute.”

“What's wrong? Is it Sligo? I didn't mean to...”

“It's fine. Don't worry.” He went silent then, and Kian pushed back to lean against the sink, waiting until he heard the toilet flush. Shane came out a moment later, looking carefully nonchalant. Kian ran a hand up his back while he washed his hands, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “Ki, seriously. I'm great.”

“You're amazing.” Kian agreed, putting hands on a slim waist that twisted under his grip, getting a fond look back. “Tell me what's wrong.”

“I'm...” Shane shook his head, and a moment later Kian was being pulled into a hug. A head lay on his shoulder and he reached up to stroke dark hair, kissing Shane's forehead gently and holding him in, aware that they were standing in a pub bathroom and not really minding. If something was up with Shane, everything else could sod off. “Mam's sick.” He said finally, quietly.

“Oh.” Kian nodded, rubbing his back gently. “When did you find that out?”

“About a month ago. Liam texted me. He said...” Shane shook his head. “She's asking after me. She said she wants...” He bit his lip, worrying it beneath his teeth for a moment. “I really don't care.”

“Of course you do.” Kian admonished. “She wants you to see you?”

“No, she wants me to go home and tell her I'm straight and that I've confessed and repented and done all that shit so she can feel better before she dies. So she doesn't have to feel like the kind of person that...” He gulped back tears. “She can fuck right off.”

“I'm sorry.” Kian whispered, feeling the strain in Shane's body. He remembered how hard it had been, leaving Sligo. Getting their shit together and getting out. Leaving his own family, who had been so supportive, and making sure Shane was taken care of. He didn't hate many people, but Shane's mother was definitely up there. “She never deserved you.”

“And I don't deserve you.” Shane pulled back a little. He wasn't crying, but he looked thoroughly down. Kian felt awful, felt like he should have noticed something before now. “I wasn't going to say anything. I'm sorry. I just...”

“You can always talk to me.”

“I know. I just wanted to pretend it didn't exist. I mean, she's been doing that to me for six years, so it feels fair enough.” He looked up, his eyes shiny with tears. “I love you. I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“Dunno. Just am.” Shane sighed, leaning back in for another hug. “The date seems to be going okay.”

“It does.” Kian agreed. “I think they're hitting it off. They kept gabbing through the previews.” Shane nodded in his arms, kissing his shoulder. “Do you want to go home? They can probably take care of themselves alright.”

“It's fine. It's better if I'm out and distracted. Have a few drinks, have a laugh. You know. Can we not talk about it any more? I really don't want to.”

“Of course. But if you do want to...”

“I know. Thanks.” Shane pulled back again. “Let's not shag around tonight, okay? I'm not in the mood.”

“I couldn't look at another lad tonight if I tried.” Kian said honestly. “You're too gorgeous, and I'm so fucking in love with you.” That at least got a smile, and Kian kissed him gently. “You're everything. I'll never let myself hurt you.”

“I know. I love you.” Shane headed towards the bathroom door, pushed it open. Kian followed, taking his hand.

 

*

 

The chicken wings were really spicy, so Mark got up to get another round of beer. Nicky watched him, taking a moment to admire his arse.

It was a good arse. Nicky had always preferred lads a bit taller than him, a bit broader. Not all the way to bears, but there was something pretty lovely about being held in strong arms, snuggling up to someone big and soft and hairy. Mark was pretty on-the-money too, despite being apparently awful in bed. Nicky didn't think it would be at all a hardship changing that.

He felt a little bad, now that it was an actual person. A sweet, shy, funny person that he could already feel himself getting on with. It wasn't one of those ridiculous falling-into-your-eyes-love-at-first-sight bullshit situations, but Mark was exactly his type and he seemed to like Nicky back. He'd caught the lad staring at his arse before, and had certainly not been unappreciative of the attention.

Kian and Shane came back, not saying anything about their departure, so Nicky didn't ask. Shane was smiling slightly and Kian seemed to have a handle on whatever the problem was. He knew a little of Shane's family situation, and figured it had to be something to do with the mention of Sligo stirring things up.

It was a shame. Nicky couldn't imagine what it'd be like if his parents weren't supportive, but it had never even been an issue. He was gay, hadn't even needed to say anything. He had been sixteen or so, had gone out on a date with a lad he'd met at an under-eighteens disco, and his dad had picked them up from the movies and dropped the lad off home without batting an eye. His mother asked if the date had gone well, and that had been that.

He'd ended up going out with him for about three weeks before getting dumped for an older guy who was putting out. Nicky hadn't been quite ready for that yet, but he'd ended up losing his virginity about a year later with his first serious boyfriend, a guy he'd met when he'd managed to fake-ID his way into a pub with some friends. They'd broken it off six months later. Not for any reason, just because it wasn't working out, but it had been nice while it lasted, shagging someone he was pretty sure he'd started to fall in love with.

Mark came back with the beers and the four of them fell into easy conversation, talking about the movie, which Nicky had thoroughly enjoyed, and polishing off the food. They made their way to a club after that, somewhere bright and noisy. Shane and Kian went off to dance and Nicky found himself at the bar with Mark.

“You want something fancy?” Nicky asked, glancing over the cocktail menu. Mark shrugged, leaning to peer over his shoulder.

“Never really been a cocktail guy.” He said, and Nicky turned to look at him, realising how close they were stood. Mark swayed back a little. “I don't know what half that stuff even is. Blue cur... carca...”

“Curacao.”

“Kyu-ra-sow?” Mark attempted. Nicky nodded, laughing. Close enough. “Nah, if I can't pronounce it, I can't drink it. It'd be wrong.”

“You've got to have rules.” Nicky agreed. “What do you want then?”

“Pick something for me.” Mark pushed the list towards him. “Nothing too fruity or mad. Just something nice.”

“Something nice...” Nicky looked over the list. Not a Cosmopolitan. He definitely wasn't a Daiquiri guy. Probably be up for a Bloody Mary, but it wasn't really a clubbing drink. Ah, that was it. Perfect. “You like mojitos?”

“Never had one. What's in it?”

“Lime, mint, rum. You like rum?”

“I like rum.” Mark nodded. “Okay, one of those.”

“Fantastic.” Nicky leaned over the bar, trying to get some attention. There was a tall lad in between he and the barman, though, so he stood up on the railing running along the bottom of the bar, trying to get a bit of height. He shifted, and then his foot slipped in something, probably a bit of spilled drink, though he didn't have much time to think about it because he was already falling backwards.

A hand grabbed his shoulder, stopping him while his own hands tried to get a grip on the wooden edge of the bar. Warm fingers pressed through his shirt, steadying him, and he got his feet planted properly, turning to thank his saviour.

“You okay?” Mark asked. His hand was still on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky laughed, blushing a little bit in embarrassment.

“I'm fine. Thanks.” He ran his fingers awkwardly through his own hair. “Got a bit enthusiastic about the mojito.”

“I don't know that it's worth killing yourself over.” Mark teased. “I'll get it, yeah?” He stood up a bit taller, leaning forward. A moment later they'd ordered and Nicky was settling onto a barstool, falling into conversation while they waited for bartender to sort out the drinks. Once they got served Mark took a tentative sip of his drink, then smiled.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, it's perfect. Thanks.” He took another sip, looking shyly at Nicky. “Guess you've got me figured out.”

“Not yet.” Nicky shook his head. “Be boring if we had it all sorted this quick.” He hesitated, not sure how far to go this early on. “I'm ehm... I'm having a really good time.”

“Me too.” Mark was going a little pink, but his smile seemed genuine. “It's been good to... you know. Get out. With you, obviously. Not like, just out of the house. God, I sound really sad now, don't I?” He laughed nervously, focusing on his drink for a minute. “Would it be okay if I asked for your number about now? Because I've had a few and I'm going to chicken out if I sober up.”

“I think that'd be fine.” Nicky assured him, reaching into his pocket for his phone. “But I should get yours as well, so things are even. I'll feel like I'm taking advantage otherwise.”

“We can't have that.” Mark snorted, and Nicky found himself smiling again, trying to remind himself that this was, in fact, a bet. That this lad was going to be painfully bad in the sack. Nicky didn't see how. He was a bit shy and awkward, yeah, but Nicky was already pretty attracted to him. He almost didn't want to sleep with him, didn't want to ruin this thing they already had happening. They exchanged numbers, and Nicky slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Dance?” He suggested, gesturing over his shoulder. Mark pulled a face, then shook his head.

“Oh god, no. You'll be deleting my number in about five minutes. No.” He took another sip of his drink. “You can if you like. I'll watch. Not like that!” He amended when Nicky raised an eyebrow, smirking. “But no. Nobody needs to see that. You go. I'll have another mojito.”

“I'll stay here.” Nicky decided. He reached onto the bar, put his hand over Mark's. After a moment's tenseness, he felt Mark relax, separate his fingers slightly so Nicky's could slip between them. He squeezed, threading their hands together. “Company's good.”

Mark bit his lip, looking up from under long eyelashes.

“Yeah, it is.” He said softly.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Mark woke up at almost lunchtime. He'd stumbled in early in the morning, a bit drunk and giggly while the other three had waved drunkenly at him from the cab. Nothing much had happened, they hadn't kissed or anything, had just hung out having a chat. It had been really nice, holding hands occasionally and getting more rounds of drinks. Nicky had talked him into trying a Long Island Iced Tea, which had been way more alcoholic than he'd expected, so he'd throttled back a bit, not wanting to be embarrassing and sloppy when this was going so well.

It had gone really well.

It felt a bit empty, pottering around his tiny flat, feeling aimless and alone. He turned the television on for a bit of company, then turned it back off again when it didn't really help. He did dishes, thought about marking some papers, then didn't bother. He'd do it tomorrow. He felt too fucking good to sit still and mark papers.

He thought about texting Nicky. Thought it was maybe a bit too soon. Knew he'd probably do it tonight anyway, when he was sitting on the couch with a bag of crisps, a couple of beers in and feeling a bit brave.

He decided to go for a drive, head into the city and get some sunlight.

He felt so fucking good.

He wondered what Nicky was doing.

 

*

 

Nicky woke up earlier than Mark did, but he certainly didn't get up before breakfast. He thought about going to the gym, but then didn't bother. He felt too fucking good to go to the gym.

He went for a run instead. It was great. He jogged for about half an hour, feeling his lungs burn and muscles ache, stopped and grabbed a donut when he made it close enough to the shops and ate it in the park, half-watching a kids' football game. He didn't play as much now as he wanted to, but it was still fun watching. He left after about twenty minutes and jogged back home, feeling sweaty and relaxed from the sunlight.

He checked his phone. Thought about texting Mark but didn't want to come off too forward. He knew he only had a month but he really liked this guy and didn't want to rush it. He thought about calling off the bet, maybe just seeing Mark on his own terms, but he really didn't want the thousand questions from Shane and Kian about why he'd suddenly decided to be noble over some guy he'd just met.

But it had gone really well.

He felt so fucking good.

He had a shower, came out feeling clean and bright. Thought about watching some telly and then couldn't be bothered. He needed to be out doing things. He felt suddenly productive, like he needed to be moving around, getting things done. He went for a drive in the end, went to get some groceries, just to be busy.

He wondered what Mark was doing.

 

*

 

Mark's phone dinged while he was walking back to his car. He fished it out of his pocket. It was getting on the afternoon now. A sleep-in and a bit of shopping had basically whittled the day away. It was still light, but he'd have to start thinking about dinner soon.

He opened the text.

**Hey**

Mark smiled, feeling himself blush a bit even though there was nobody looking at him, not while he was walking down the carpark stairs alone. Still, heat ran suddenly up his body, all accumulating in his face.

He paused, not wanting to trip over himself and fall three stories down concrete steps while he texted back.

**Hey**

He put the phone back in his pocket, jogged down the stairs quickly, wanting to be free in case Nicky replied. He found his car, climbed in. His phone went off again. He felt his heart beat a little faster

**Recover all right?**

He bit his lip. Had he been that bad last night, or was Nicky just being polite? Although if he had been embarrassing, he supposed Nicky wouldn't be texting at all.

**Yeah, slept in for a bit. You?**

He thought he should probably start driving. Didn't want to in case Nicky texted back. So he turned on the radio, sat in his car and waited. He didn't have to wait long.

**Same. Did groceries. It was boring.**

He didn't know what to say to that, but felt like he had to say something. If he didn't reply, Nicky might not reply, and then he'd think he was being ignored.

**I went shopping. Bought some socks. Best day ever :-)**

He really hoped that sounded the way he meant it, as a little bit sarcastic, and not as the most boring person on the planet. God, he was the most boring person on the planet, wasn't he? Fuck.

**That sounds amazing ;-)** came through a moment later. Mark smiled, starting to tap something back, but before he could it dinged again.  **You free tomorrow night?**

**I can be.** He hedged, not wanting to sound overeager. He was absolutely free. He was totally, absolutely free. Definitely. He didn't want to say that, sound desperate, but shit, he was so fucking free it was ridiculous. If it was Nicky, he was free.

**Cool. Want to go get dinner or something? My treat.**

Mark didn't know how to reply. 'Yes' seemed too basic, but he didn't want to get all gushy and freak the guy out. His fingers floated over the keypad for a moment, and then he figured 'fuck it' and took a chance.

**I'd love to :-)**

 

*

 

**I'd love to :-)**

Nicky laughed, his heart suddenly light. He was sat in his boxers in his living room. He was supposed to be going out with Shane and Kian again, but he'd bailed out, not having felt up to it after last night. They'd ask him a thousand questions about how it had gone with Mark, but he wanted to keep it to himself, didn't want to be overthinking it this early in the game. Had just texted them and left it at that.

**I'll pick you up at seven-thirty, if that's alright?**

**Sounds good** came back a moment later. Nicky giggled to himself, sinking down into the couch. He felt like an idiot teenager all of a sudden, nervously passing notes in class.  **Looking forward to it** came through a moment later. He lay down, holding the phone above his face to text back.

**Can't wait** .

He put the phone down a moment later, worried that he'd been too full on. There was no reply for a long moment, then his phone beeped again and he was almost embarrassed by how fast he grabbed it.

**About to start driving so I can't text. I'm not ignoring you I promise** .

And fuck, that was the sweetest, most adorable thing Nicky had ever read. He collapsed back into the couch, feeling himself glow. Fought the urge to text Mark back, not wanting him to hit a tree or something trying to read it.

He felt so fucking good.

 

*

 

“Nicky's out.” Shane announced. Kian poked his head out of the bathroom, a hair-dryer in one hand, his hair half wet.

“What?”

“Nicky's out!” Shane called over the roar of the dryer.

“Give me a second!” Kian called back, then he disappeared into the bathroom again. He came out a few minutes later, his hair dry and perfect. Shane reached up, running fingers through it to smooth it out. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nicky's out.” Shane explained, standing up. Arms came around his waist, tugging him in.

“How come?”

“Dunno. Said he was tired from last night.” A kiss dropped lightly on his lips and he returned it, tucking his fingers into Kian's collar. “You look totally fuckable. On the pull?”

“Always.” Kian winked. Shane smirked, kissing him again. “You?”

“Most definitely.” Shane confirmed. “Wouldn't mind pulling you, to be honest.”

“You already pulled me.” Their lips met again, and Shane let himself sink into it, felt it deepen when they melted together a little bit, fingers drifting up his cheek and then down his neck. “I love you.” Was breathed against his lips. Shane shivered, kissing him again. “I love you so much.”

“I love you.” Shane whispered back. “What you in the mood for tonight?”

“Ooh, thinking someone tall and a bit dangerous.” Kian laughed. “Tattoos, chest hair, gets into fights. Someone really bad for me.”

“Sounds hot.” Shane agreed. “I was thinking someone young and pretty. Someone with sequins in the wardrobe. You know the type.”

“I love that type.” Kian laughed. “You have excellent taste.”

“Obviously.” Shane nuzzled into his neck. “I want to fuck someone while you watch.”

“I can do that.” Teeth nipped at his ear, and he felt Kian's breath speed up. “Love watching you fuck. You're so fucking good at it.”

“Learned from the best.” Shane murmured back. Heat was racing down his body, accumulating in the growing erection he was casually rubbing against the thigh that had snuck in between his legs. “You feel so good.” He groaned, biting at Kian's throat. “I want to fuck you.”

“Don't waste it.” Kian ordered. Shane moaned, grinding down a little harder. “I want to watch you shoot a load in some pretty cocktease's arse. Then I want to fuck you while you go down on him. Feel you so fucking tight around me.”

“Yeah.” Shane agreed, not stopping. “We need to go sort that out right now.”

“We do.” Kian snickered back. Shane laughed, pushing away, watching Kian lick his lips when he took in the bulge in Shane's jeans. He knew nobody else understood this, that they could be so madly in love and want other people, but there was a strange sort of security in it, knowing exactly where he was going home to. Knowing that he was always Kian's home, no matter what. That when they curled up in bed together, tired and sated, that nobody else could possibly matter. That fucking was nothing compared to what Kian gave him.

Safety. Love. Security. Respect. That he knew exactly who Shane was and accepted it totally, never questioning or trying to change him. That Shane knew Kian inside out, and never wanted anything else but what he was.

He leaned in again, pulling Kian into a chaste hug. Laid his head on a strong shoulder that had always been there to support him, to comfort him. Felt arms come around him, protect him.

“Thanks.”

Kian didn't ask what for. It didn't matter. It was one of the reasons Shane loved him.

“Always.” He murmured back. Shane nodded, holding him close.

 

*

 

Mark was eating a packet of crisps on the couch when his phone went off again, half-watching a late movie and trying to decide if he should mark some papers. He really couldn't be bothered, though, knew he'd have to fill the whole next day somehow while he was waiting for Nicky, knew he'd just sit around the house having ten showers, trying on twelve different outfits and then being ready six hours early anyway.

He picked up his phone.

Nicky.

Oh.

**How are your socks?**

Mark was surprised into a laugh, looking down at his bare feet. They were just boring white work socks, and he hadn't even taken them out of the packaging yet.

**Don't know yet. Saving them for a special occasion. What u doing?**

**Watching TV. Titanic's on.**

**What channel?** He was already flicking through. He'd seen it about a hundred times, and it was only bloody twenty hours long or something, but Nicky was watching it and suddenly that was good enough. And... there it was.  **Found it** .

**Kate Winslet's about to get her tits out** . Mark snorted, already replying

**Like you care**

**Yeah, but then Leo gets all flustered and it's gorgeous and I want to fuck him a little bit**

**That's fair.** He had a point, Mark thought as Leonardo DiCaprio got all stuttery, staring at her chest. It was pretty cute. And yeah, okay, he was definitely gay.  **I like the bit where the ship sinks**

**Well now you've ruined the ending** . Mark laughed out loud. Fuck, he liked this guy.  **Can I call you?**

Yes. Fuck. Yes. He sort of didn't want to, didn't want to ruin being all cool and interesting in text by being boring and awkward in person. But still. Nicky.

**Yeah**

His phone rang a moment later. He lifted it to his ear, heard a soft, hoarse laugh.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark replied, sitting up on the couch, shoving the crisps aside. “I'm gonna say you've seen this before?”

“Only about a hundred times.” Nicky snorted. “It's not even intentional, I just turn on the telly and there it is.”

“You're being stalked by Titanic?”

“Apparently. I should get a restraining order.” Nicky said seriously. “What were you watching?”

“Dunno. I wasn't, really, was just kind of having a beer and staring at nothing. I think it had Steven Seagal in it.”

“This is better, then.”

“Much better.” Mark agreed. He could hear Nicky breathing on the other end and didn't try to say anything, sank back into his chair. It was almost two minutes later that Nicky spoke again.

“You ever done that?”

“What, had sex in a car with a girl on a sinking ship?”

“It's not sinking yet.” Nicky laughed. “No, shagged in a car.”  
  
“Can't say I have.” Mark hedged, not wanting to make Nicky aware of his inexperience. It'd come out in the end, probably, but he didn't want to be dropped on the spot. It was too weird to say, to mention that he'd had sex with one bloke, ever, and it had been with Nicky's friend a little over a week ago. Though obviously he hadn't been that bad if Kian had set them up. “Have you?”

“Yeah, just the one time. Years and years ago, with an ex-boyfriend. It wasn't nearly as interesting as it looks in this.”

“No?”

“No.” Nicky chuckled. “It was all cramped and a bit awkward and there wasn't enough room to get my pants off properly, so we ended up just wanking each other off.”

“Bad then?”

“No, it was nice. Like, it was bad, but it was still fun. I think we were laughing so hard it didn't matter, in the end.” Mark laughed at the thought. Fuck he liked Nicky. “I... I don't want to wait until tomorrow night. Can I meet you for breakfast instead?”

Mark bit his lip. He really did have papers to read and had a feeling if he went out for breakfast he'd never get home again, not until late.

“I really want to say yes.” Mark said, finally. “But I have a bunch of papers to mark and...”

“No, that's fine. Sorry. I'm being too...”

“No, no it's fine. I want to say yes. I really do. I just... I meant to do them today and I didn't...”

“Yeah.” There was soft breathing on the other end. “Do you want to watch the rest of the movie with me, then?”

Mark nodded, then realised Nicky couldn't see him “Yeah. Definitely.” He settled back on the couch, heard Nicky do the same. “If you want, you could pick me up earlier.”

“How early?

“Erm... five-thirty? I'll be done by then.”

“Five.”

“Five-fifteen.” Mark shot back. Heard a laugh. He reached for the remote, turned the movie down a little bit so he could heard Nicky on the other end. Not talking, just listening to him exist.

 

*

 

“Yes!”

“Why are you cheering a guy hitting a propellor?” Mark giggled on the other end. He was drinking a beer, so Nicky had grabbed one of his own. He didn't really need a drink, but it made the whole thing feel a little more personal, like they were sitting together watching the movie.

“Who wouldn't? That's fantastic.” Nicky pointed out. “I'd want to be that guy, honestly. Smacks off the side and he's done. He doesn't have to drown or freeze to death, and he goes out really cool. Like, if any of those other people survive they're gonna say 'wow, did you see that guy who hit the propellor? That was amazing.'.”

“I can't say I've ever thought about it like that.” Mark admitted. Nicky smirked.

“I'm practical like that.”  
  
“I'm not sure that's the word I'd use to describe you."

“What word would you use, then?” Nicky prompted. Maybe he was pushing, especially after that embarrassing bullshit about changing things to a breakfast date, but he figured Mark would have hung up on him by now if things weren't going well.

“Might be a bit early to say.” Mark said finally. “Ask me again later.”

“How much later?”

“Just later.” Mark laughed. “You're so impatient!”

“Impatient? That's my description?”

“At the minute, yeah.” Mark was relaxing up a bit, despite how shy and hesitant he'd been at the beginning. Nicky liked this Mark. He was funny and quick and interesting. It was sort of comforting having him on the other end, listening to him breathe even when they weren't talking. Being with him. It was easy. “I still think there's room for both of them on that door.”

“Oh god, yes.” Nicky agreed. “Like, one on either side, both hop up and there's no problem. I think she let him die so she could make a clean break when she got home. Like, she's seduced Leo to help her ditch Billy Zane, he's served his purpose, and now he's at the bottom of the ocean and she's got a big shiny necklace to hock and everyone thinks she's dead. Perfect plan.”

“Nicky!” Mark gasped on the other end, and Nicky was quite proud of himself for a minute. “They're madly in love.”

“They knew each other for like three days and shagged in a car. If they are, it's only because he took her virginity and she's a bit smitten. It doesn't make it love. He's poor, anyway. He was probably just playing her for her money.”

“He's not a thief! Stop ruining it! She gave him her virginity because she loved him.”

“She thought he was cute and was trying to bolt out of a really fucked up arranged marriage. Conniving bitch.” He paused, enjoying Mark's shocked silence. “Come on, were you in love with the person you lost your virginity to?”

“Can't say I was, no.” Mark snorted, still sounding aghast. “Were you?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head. “It was nice, but it wasn't love.”

“Have you ever been in love?” He sounded almost shy.

“I'm not sure.” Nicky admitted. “Sometimes I've thought so, but not like that. Not like Jack and Rose. Have you?”

“No.” Mark said quietly. “Never had that...” He sighed, sounding deeply melancholy. Nicky felt his heart sink a little at the sudden loneliness in that voice. “No. I'm not out, you know? Not even to my family. Not to anyone, really. It's a bit tricky.”

“How many boyfriends have you had?”

“Erm... none?” Mark mumbled. “I tried dating girls for a bit, but it wasn't exactly my thing. I don't know. This is all a bit...” He sighed. “God, I sound really sad, don't I?”

“Not at all.” Nicky assured him. No wonder he wasn't great in bed, if all he'd been with was slags like Kian. No-one to take time with him, teach him what they liked. That made him a little bit sad.

God, this bet was in the bag, wasn't it?

He felt fucking awful thinking that.

Fucking hell.

“I really like you.” He said quietly. Heard Mark's breath hitch on the other end.

“I um... I really like you too.” Mark replied. Nicky wanted to hug the phone to his chest, but that meant pulling it away from his ear. “Even if you don't believe in Jack and Rose.”

“Yeah, but in the end she keeps the necklace.” Nicky pointed out. “So she must have loved him.”

“She drops it into the ocean.” Mark corrected.

“She does.” Nicky agreed. “But she doesn't hock it. She keeps it for eighty years.”

“Yeah.” Mark was quiet for a long moment. On the telly, Rose found a whistle and started to blow, the spotlight falling on her face in the darkness of the freezing ocean. “I should go to bed.”

“Okay.” Nicky tried to hide his disappointment. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Nicky.” There was another long pause. “Night.” He said again.

“Night.” Nicky replied.

“Okay. Yeah.” Mark huffed out a breath. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Nicky chuckled, heard a soft, bashful laugh on the other end. “Five-fifteen?”

“Five.” Mark decided. Nicky grinned, leaning into the phone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nicky murmured back. “Night.”

 

*

 

Mark hung up the phone, stared at it for a moment. He thought about calling back, but decided that would be way too weird.

“Night.” He said softly, getting up and heading to bed.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Mark had all the papers marked and was ready by three. Nicky knew it too, because they'd been texting all day. He'd tried not to get too distracted, focus on his work, but it was awfully hard when he kept getting sweet, random messages.

**I just saw a dog that looked like Roy Keane**

**Did you like Dude Where's My Car?**

**What's the most famous person you've ever met?**

**I have too many jackets**

It was sort of lovely, knowing Nicky had all of these random thoughts in his head and felt the need to share them with Mark, without embarrassment or worry. Mark replied to all of them, tried not to get too mired down in conversation, but it was impossible when he felt the grin sneak across his face every time he heard his phone beep.

**We should get a cat that looks like David Beckham and make them fight**

**Yeah, but I was drunk**

**Ronan Keating one time at the supermarket. It was weird.**

**So stop buying jackets**

And then Nicky would text back and off they'd go again. Then it was three o'clock and he had two hours left to go, was trying to do a quick tidy in case Nicky came up for some reason. He wasn't sure he was ready to go there yet, but he wouldn't entirely rule it out. And even if they didn't go there, he might pop up when he picked Mark up, come in for coffee or something.

The doorbell rang at four forty-nine.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Nicky was leaning in the doorway, looking totally gorgeous in a white shirt with the top three buttons undone and a pair of black trousers. Mark felt a bit under-dressed for a moment, in dark jeans and a red shirt, but Nicky didn't seemed perturbed, just looked him up and down for a moment, his face full of a cheeky grin. “You look nice.”  
  
“Thanks.” He felt his cheeks heat and forced a smile back. “You too. Nice, I mean.”

“Thanks.” Nicky nodded. “You ready?”

“Just need to grab a jacket.” Mark gestured, backing up a little bit. “Come in, if you like. I'll just...” He headed off to the bedroom. When he came back Nicky was leaning against his kitchen counter, looking expectant. “Sorry. We can go.”

“No rush.” Nicky shrugged, tilting his head, his eyes evaluating. “I like your place.”

“You'd be the only one.” Mark joked. “It was all I could bloody afford on my salary. It's just a place to sleep, you know?”

“I like this.” Nicky crossed the room, looking up at a picture on the wall. It was a photo Mark had taken last year when he'd gone home, of the lake near his parents' house. They'd moved back to Sligo after he'd finished school, but by then he was already settled in Dublin, had a job. “Is this home?”

“Yeah, that's Lough Gill.” Mark explained. “I used to go there a lot when I was a kid.”

“It's pretty. Did you take this?” Mark nodded. “It's really good. You take a lot of photos?”

“Erm... sometimes. I don't know. Not seriously.” He shrugged. “Some of them turn out not crap.”

“You have others?” Nicky asked, turning around. His eyes fixed on Mark and for a moment they looked at each other. Mark bit his lip, not sure what to say.

“Yeah. A couple, I guess.”

“Can I see?”

“I guess so. Yeah.” Mark shrugged. “They're um...” He pointed towards the bedroom. “Come look if you like.” He headed through, very aware that he was leading a very nice guy he'd only known for three days into his bedroom. He gestured at the chest of drawers, where there a few framed photos sat on top. “That's erm... that's my family, and that's from the time we went to London on holidays...” It was a close-up picture, a grey squirrel clinging to a fence-post, looking right down the camera. “That's in Hyde Park. There's squirrels bloody everywhere.”

“These are fantastic.” Nicky picked up a black and white one of his grandmother. She was laughing, one hand covered by an oven mitt, the other reaching down to scratch the head of a large Irish Setter. “This is lovely.”

“It's my favourite.” Mark admitted. “That's my Nana. One of them, anyway. They helped raise me when I was little, while mam and dad were working.” He sat down on the bed, knowing he was probably getting too comfortable when they were supposed to be going out.

“You're really talented.”

“No...” Mark shook his head. “Just get lucky sometimes. I delete more than I save, to be honest. Some just turn out okay.”

“Don't sell yourself short. This...” He pointed at another picture of the lough, a swan with its wings half open as it prepared to take off. Mark bloody hated birds, they scared the shit out of him, but it had been a cool moment and he'd just happened to have his camera. “This is amazing.”

“I'm actually terrified of birds.” Mark admitted, not sure why he was saying it. He usually didn't. Everyone always thought he was mental. “I was really glad when it flew away.”

Nicky laughed. “You're scared of birds?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “It's stupid, I know...”

“Nah, it's fine.” Nicky hesitated, then smiled at him. “I'm scared of lifts.”

“What, like elevator lifts?” Mark asked. Nicky nodded. “How come?”

“Dunno. Just a thing. Always have this feeling I'm gonna get stuck, or dropped or something. Why are you scared of birds?”

“Got chased once, when I was little. I know it makes no sense now, but my family had this big rooster on our farm, and it went mental and attacked me.” He saw Nicky start to laugh. “It's pretty stupid.”

“It's not. It's adorable.” Nicky giggled, sitting down next to him and putting a hand on his thigh. Mark bit his lip, feeling warmth spill through him, the feel of fingers clenching gently on his leg. “You're adorable.”

“Oh.” Mark bit his lip. “Don't know about that.”

“I do.” Nicky squeezed his thigh, then let go. “I'm taking you out. What do you want for dinner? Anything you like.”

“I don't mind.” Mark replied honestly. He looked up, caught Nicky's eye a moment. “I uh... I don't get to go out very often. Where's good?”

Nicky pursed his lips, obviously thinking for a second, then he grinned, putting a hand on Mark's shoulder.

“You want to go for a bit of a drive?”

 

*

 

Malahide was lovely at this time of year, with a bit of warmth still in the air and a cool breeze coming off the water. Nicky parked the car and led Mark up the promenade to his favourite restaurant. It was a big, glass fronted building with a perfect view of the water and, in about two hours, the sunset. They went upstairs, ordered a couple of cocktails, and settled down at a table.

“This is fancy.” Mark said quietly, looking around. Nicky smiled. He'd sat next to Mark instead of across from him, wanted to be as close to the younger boy as possible. “Are you sure you can afford...”

“It's fine.” Nicky assured him. “It's my favourite, actually. Don't fill up on mains. You have to save room for the desserts, they're perfect.” He accepted a couple of menus from the waiter and began to sip his drink. He already knew what he wanted, but it was fun watching Mark look over the menu.

“What's good?” He looked up at Nicky.

“I'd get the rump.” Nicky pointed. “You a steak man?” Mark nodded. “With the mushroom sauce and roasted potatoes. Amazing. Do you want an entree?”

“I don't know.” Mark flicked back to the beginning of the menu. “What are you having?”

“How about some pine-nut and parmesan bruschetta. It'll blow your mind.” Nicky pointed. “I'll split one with you, if you like, and we can still have room for dessert. You have to leave this place with a crème brulee inside you, or the whole thing's wasted.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Mark was smiling shyly, putting his menu down. “This is nice. I don't think I've been taken out before. Like, I've taken people out, but...” Nicky reached under the table, not able to help wanting the feeling of that strong thigh filling his hand again. Mark looked surprised, then laughed quietly, looking down at his closed menu. “Thanks. This is fun, being dated.”

“I'm gonna date the crap out of you.” Nicky promised, earning another one of those gorgeous laughs he was beginning to get addicted to. “I'm gonna date you so hard you won't be able to walk right.”

“I don't know that I'm ready for that level of dating yet.” Mark teased, but his eyes looked a little hesitant. Nicky took the hand off his thigh, rested his elbows on the table. His mother would probably kill him for his table manners, but he didn't care. “Thanks anyway.”

“Thanks for coming.” Nicky replied. Mark nodded, reaching for his drink. He drained it quickly, putting it back on the table. “Another one?”

“Yeah.” Mark said, looking up. “Thanks.”

 

*

 

Mark was into his third mojito, but he didn't feel remotely drunk. Just kind of loosened up and good, sitting with Nicky and laughing over their steaks, the sun starting to go down next to them, glancing off the water and filling the room with light. Nicky's hand had snuck under the table a few times to squeeze his knee, but he didn't feel at all freaked out, or like he was being pressured. It was just sort of comfortable, like they'd known each other a very long time.

They just talked. Talked about things that weren't even that interesting, but sounded fascinating falling from Nicky's lips. Talked about places they'd been and things they'd done and movies they'd seen. Talked about their work, and bands they liked, and their families. Nicky's parents sounded lovely, totally at ease with their son's sexuality. Mark was considering even more the concept of telling his parents, expressed his worries a little hesitantly even though he'd never spoken about it to anyone before. Nicky didn't push, or judge, just nodded sympathetically and asked him lots of questions about why he felt the way he did.

It was easy talking to Nicky. And Nicky seemed to be comfortable talking back, telling him silly stories about embarrassing things that had happened to him, and random stuff about his childhood. He found out that Nicky had tried to be a footballer when he was younger but had been kicked from the team when he'd failed to grow tall enough to meet regulations for being a goalie. He wanted to get into radio now. Mark thought it was perfect for him. He was a really good listener, had Mark telling him things about himself that he never would have thought he'd say out loud. It never felt like a chore, though. Just felt like Nicky was really interested in what he had to say.

Nicky found out that he was a huge, mental fan of Mariah Carey, that he had Superman pyjamas, that his first big crush on a man had been on an English teacher at his third high school in Cork. That his first kiss was with a girl called Emily, sitting up the back of the school bus when he was twelve. She'd snogged him, and he'd been too surprised and terrified to figure out whether he'd enjoyed it or not.

He didn't mention the fact that he was basically a virgin. He supposed he wasn't anyway, not now.

The food was amazing. Nicky ordered three desserts so they could share, a crème brulee, a lemon meringue pie, and a fudge tart with vanilla ice cream that oozed chocolate syrup when Nicky slid his fork into it. They polished off all three, Nicky feeding him spoonfuls of ice cream until he held his hands up in defeat, too full to move.

They walked it off on the way back to the car, the sun well and truly down. It was getting late, almost ten o'clock, and Mark had to be at work early for class. Nicky did too, had an eight-thirty start at the station. He slid into the passenger seat, trying to figure out if he was about to fall asleep on the drive home and look like an idiot. Nicky started the car up. He'd only had one drink, but had made sure Mark's was refreshed whenever he liked, not looking twice at the bill when it had been handed to him and refusing to show Mark the total.

He got dropped off just after ten-thirty. They sat in the car for a long moment.

“Can I walk you to your door?” Nicky asked. Mark bit his lip, not sure if this wasn't going too fast. Nicky had a lot more experience than him and this wasn't just a shag. He wanted to keep this guy around, if possible. Didn't want to ruin things too early on.

“I... erm...” He sighed, looking at the expectant face. “I want to say yes, but I'm afraid if that happens I'll ask you in. And I'm not sure we should...”

“I get ya.” Nicky nodded. “I had a really good time, anyway. Thanks for coming out with me.”

“I did too. Thanks for taking me. I uh...” He leaned in slightly, then pulled himself up, not sure. A hand crossed the distance between them, knuckles brushing his cheek. “Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you.”

“Of course.” Nicky was leaning over then, the angle awkward with the gearshift between them, but then... oh. There were soft, slim lips on his, and Nicky was tilting his head a little. He heard himself make an embarrassing noise and opened his mouth a little, not in invitation, just because he couldn't think of how else to catch a breath. Nicky made a soft little sighing noise, pressed a bit firmer, and then pulled away, licking his lips.

They looked at each other, across the distance of the gearshift. Nicky gave him a pouting smirk that made him want to leap across the seat and climb on top of him.

“That was nice.” Nicky said softly. Mark nodded. “If I take you out tomorrow night, can we do it again?”

“I...” Mark swallowed. “I have parent-teacher interviews. I can't...” He gave Nicky a pained grimace. “Tuesday?” He asked hopefully. Nicky nodded.

“Tuesday.” He bit his lip. “I'll text you, alright?”

“When?”

“As soon as possible.” Nicky chuckled, reaching across to touch his face again. “Goodnight.”

“Night.”

Mark climbed out, the air suddenly cold around him. He tugged his jacket a little tighter, closed the door with a last wave at Nicky, then headed inside and up the stairs.

He had just climbed into bed when his phone beeped.

**Goodnight** , it said.

 

*

 

Nicky was just climbing into bed when the reply came back.

**Goodnight** , it said.  **Thanks.**

He laughed, hugging the phone to his chest for a moment, feeling warmth spill through him, the rush of contentment that was almost frightening in its suddenness. The spike of guilt when he saw the unread text right below it.

It was from Kian.

**Shagged him yet?**

Nicky ignored it, set his alarm, pulled the blankets up.

He'd worry about that later. When he wasn't feeling so fucking amazing.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Nicky hummed on his way down to the laundry. He had a load of washing on, knew he wasn't supposed to be leaving it in the dryer unattended, but two hours was a long time to dryer-watch and he had better things to do.

Like getting ready to see Mark.

This was their fifth date now. It hadn't even been a week yet. Monday had been taken over by parent-teacher interviews, and then they'd gone out Tuesday night. Went to a nice little wood-fired pizza place in town and shared a bottle of red wine. They'd gotten a cab home, so they hadn't been able to kiss in the car, but Mark had made up for it on Wednesday night when they'd gone to a concert in the park, had snuggled up under a blanket and paid no attention to the band. They'd kissed again, just once or twice, nothing full on as they were in public and all, but it had been slow and comfortable, heady in a way that made Nicky feel like he was spinning. It had started raining half-way in and they'd run back to the car, giggling as they tried to dry themselves off with the damp blanket.

Nicky had kissed him again in the car, when he'd dropped Mark off. It had been more proper, this one. He'd felt a soft tongue skate his bottom lip for a moment, returned it, and when he pulled back Mark's eyes were darker and his face was flushed. Nicky had leant in again, felt his skin hum when fingers cupped his cheek, pulling him a little deeper into it.

Then Mark had wished him a reluctant goodnight and gone inside. Nicky had driven home, then texted him the moment he was out of the car.

They did that a lot. Random texts. Silly, pointless things that didn't mean anything but were like stretching out a hand, tapping each other on the shoulder, and reminding them that they were, in fact, here. That Nicky was thinking about Mark. That Mark was thinking about him back.

It was bloody lovely.

He had one now, as he was scooping his clothes out of the dryer. He wanted them all put away before Mark got here. He was coming over tonight. Nicky was ordering Chinese food, had a bottle of wine breathing on the kitchen counter. They were going to watch a movie, nothing mad, but it was a step. It felt like a step.

He pulled out his phone on the way back up the stairs.

**I'm really sorry, I'm caught up at work. Might be a bit late.**

**It's okay** , Nicky replied,  **anything I can do?**

**No. Just a surprise meeting. I'll be there around eight** .

**I'll wait ;-)** Nicky promised, sinking down onto the couch. Two more hours. He'd only gotten home himself about an hour ago, had rushed around getting everything ready. It was fine, though. He was telling the truth – he'd happily wait.

He wasn't sure what it was. Why he was so suddenly hung up on this guy he'd met less than a week ago. A guy who, by all accounts, was a tragic shag. He didn't know if that was true, not yet, but he felt like it couldn't possibly be. Mark was sweet, smart, gorgeous. Totally lovely in a shy, odd sort of way that hid the fact that he was really quick and sarcastic. When they talked he felt like he was the centre of Mark's world. It was a bit intoxicating, being interesting to someone else. But Mark was interesting too. Nicky felt like there were layers there, and peeling them back made him feel better than if he was taking off Mark's clothes, though he quite wanted to do that as well.

He had a massive crush. He knew that.

He'd gotten a few texts from Kian, mostly asking how things were going. Shane had been surprisingly quiet, but Kian wanted to know what was going on, whether he was making any progress. Nicky didn't want to reply, didn't want to entertain the fact that this had started out as something he didn't want it to be any more. He felt like maybe he should tell Mark the truth, put an end to this whole thing. Didn't want to lose him in the process, not when things were getting so good.

Things were really good.

Another text came through.

**This is so boring.**

Nicky laughed, flicking on the TV.

**I wish you were here instead** he tapped back.

**Me too. Sigh. What are we watching tonight?**

**Dunno. Up to you.** Nicky texted back. God, but he even liked accommodating Mark. Usually he was the selfish one, trying to get his own way, but he didn't want that. He wanted to make Mark happy, feed him amazing desserts and watch his eyes close in pleasure, turn the radio to a station Mark liked and hear him get excited about a song he loved. Find things Mark didn't know he liked so Nicky could share it with him. Maybe it was that Mark was younger, obviously a bit naïve, but Nicky liked putting a hand on his back – figuratively and literally – and showing him new things. Seeing his eyes light up, seeing him look at Nicky like he was a wonder all by himself.

**Not fussed. Anything sounds fascinating about now.**

**Say something French.** Nicky prompted. He loved it when Mark spoke French. It was hot as hell. He himself only had a passing knowledge of Irish, and Mark was a little better, but there was something totally gorgeous about hearing words he barely understood whispered against his ear, something exotic and sensual in equal measure.

**When I get there.**

**Oops, I've been caught. Talk later.**

Nicky laughed, putting the phone down, the mental image of Mark sitting around a staid teacher's lounge and being busted texting under the table totally sweet.

He changed the channel, found something generic to watch, and lay back, closing his eyes.

 

*

 

It took a while to find Nicky's place. Mark hadn't been there before, and it took a couple of goes to find the apartment complex number. It was a blocky brick building, and he wandered for a bit until he found the right one. Apartment fourteen.

It was almost a quarter of eight when he knocked on the right door.

Nicky answered a minute later, covering his mouth against a yawn, his hair slightly mussed, his shirt a little bit wrinkled.

“Sorry, must've fallen asleep.” He rubbed his eyes, smiling. “Come in. I'll order food.” Mark nodded, following him in.

Nicky's place was nice, a little bigger than his and neat, with a large living area and kitchen and big TV. There were pictures on the walls, family photos and a few football team shots. Mark paused in front of one, chuckling when he located Nicky, recognising the crooked grin and laughing eyes, but not the shock of ginger hair.

“Redhead?” He asked. Nicky rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, but don't tell anyone.” He put a finger over his lips. “Shh.”

“Secret's safe with me.” He nodded. Nicky couldn't be older than ten in that shot, but it was undeniably him, all cocky cheerfulness. “Sorry I'm late.”

“Not at all.” Nicky picked up his phone. “Chinese?”

“Yeah, just some spring rolls and... I dunno, do they have a fried rice? Something with chicken, maybe?”

“I'm sure they do.” Nicky nodded, lifting the phone to his ear. He'd only hit one button, so Mark supposed this place was tried and tested, one of Nicky's regulars. He had a lot of regulars. He settled down on the couch while Nicky ordered, glancing around. A few minutes later the couch sank and a hand fell to his thigh. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Mark replied, studying bright sea-blue eyes. Fuck, Nicky was gorgeous. “How was work?”

“Fine, dear.” Nicky teased. “Wine?”

“Yeah.” Mark stood back up. He could see the bottle on the counter. “I'll get it.” He headed into the kitchen. Nicky watched from the couch. “Glasses?”

“Cupboard above the microwave.”

Mark opened it, pulled out a couple of long-stemmed wine glasses. He filled them quickly, probably a little fuller than standard, and carried them back down. Nicky took his, and then held it out, letting them clink together.

“To, ehm...” He shrugged. “You, I guess.”

“To me.” Mark agreed, getting a put-open grimace in return. “But to you, also.”

“To me also.” Nicky nodded. He leaned in, and then they were kissing, Mark trying to keep his glass upright and not spill on Nicky's carpet. It was taken from his hand a moment later, though, so that stopped being a problem. He tilted his head, felt Nicky's lips part against his, a tongue press to his mouth. He let it through, having no reason not to. Not when they were sitting on Nicky's couch, fingers curling up through his hair.

“Oh.” He managed when they parted. “Nice.”

“Very.” Nicky agreed. “We should do it again.”

“Yeah.” Mark didn't have a chance to nod before there were hands on his shoulders, pushing him back a little bit while Nicky leant into him. Their tongues wove together, a sound between a growl and a whimper brushing his mouth. Mark made his own sound, hand tangling in soft blonde hair, feeling teeth scrape his lower lip slightly, the sensation running straight down to his cock.

“I want you.” Nicky whispered. Mark groaned, feeling a stab of terror, a spike of lust. This was going fast, but in equal measure felt like it was taking forever. Less than a week. But five dates. Talking to each other on the phone every night, texting every day.

“Yeah.” Mark agreed. “Food's coming.” He mumbled, feeling Nicky close the gap between them. “Don't have time.”

“You're too fucking sensible.” Nicky said hoarsely.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be. It's gorgeous.” Then their lips were moving over each other again, Mark's fingers running down to hesitantly touch Nicky's waist, hold him still while they kissed. Nicky was kneeling next to him, just about in his lap, and Mark tilted back, let Nicky lean over him when his head pillowed on the arm rest. Felt a hard, decidedly male body press to his, hold him down, felt himself thrust up a little without meaning to.

“Oh...” He tilted his head back when lips left his, began to move down his neck. A tongue flickered out, and he tangled one hand in soft blonde hair, his other pushing under Nicky's shirt, feeling hot skin under his palm. “Nicky...”

“Tell me if it's too fast.” Nicky was saying, though he didn't sound like he wanted to hear the answer. Mark bit his lip anyway, shivering at the slow, gentle bites on his throat. “I'll stop.”

“Don't stop.” He found himself saying. “God, don't stop.”

“Oh, thank god.” Nicky laughed. Mark giggled, despite himself, looking down. Nicky looked up at him, eyes dark and hooded, lips red and a little swollen. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

“I... you too.” Mark bit his lip, feeling too forward about this. But this was Nicky. Nicky who was gorgeous and sweet and did things for him and liked taking him places, who was funny and sent the most random texts and looked at him like he was the most fascinating thing in the world. “I want you. Please...”

 

*

 

Hearing Mark say please may, in fact, have been the best thing in the world. Or Nicky though that at first, until he saw the slow, rolling way he arched into the kisses being dotted down his throat, the ragged gasp when Nicky nibbled his ear. Nicky did it again, trying to keep this slow, trying not to go too far until the food got here, knowing that one of them would have to answer the door. He hoped it wouldn't be him, because he was so fucking hard it hurt. It probably couldn't be Mark either, because he was in pretty much the same situation. He was trying not to focus on that too much, though, because he was fairly certain if he saw how hard Mark was, felt it pressed against him, he'd be going down on him in a minute.

He kissed him again instead, let Mark roll them over, felt a larger frame push him down, hold him. Nicky groaned, rocking up into it, listening to a sighing gasp that filled his mouth.

“What do you want?” He gasped, feeling soft lips pluck gently at his chin. “Anything you want.” Mark had beautiful lips, full and red that looked even more beautiful when he was nervous, worrying that plump flesh between his teeth. They were dragging down his throat now, just damp enough to cling to his skin, tickling slowly, setting his skin alight.

“Don't care. Want you.” Mark mumbled. “Want everything. Anything.”

“What do you like?” Nicky asked, closing his eyes and groaning when a hand pushed under his shirt, stroking his stomach. “What turns you on? How do you like it?”

“Don't know.” Mark said softly. “Just want to touch you.”

“God...” Nicky arched into the hand, felt it slide around to stroke up his ribs. He supposed Mark had only gotten off with randoms before, and it had all been in, out, and thanks a lot, but this was painfully vague. He wanted to start targeting things, figure out what was wrong so he could fix it. But nothing was wrong so far, and Mark wanted to touch him. He was okay with that. “Touch me.” He mumbled, felt a rumbling moan against his throat. “Anything you like.”

“Need this off.” Hands tugged at the hem of his shirt, and Nicky sat up to help him get it off. Mark hissed appreciatively, running his fingers down his chest, down his stomach. “You're so bloody beautiful.” Nicky rolled into the hand, felt it drift lower, to the parts that were crying out, aching for that careful touch. They stopped short, though, above his waistband, then drifted back up. Then they were pressed together again, Mark's hands underneath him, running down his back, catching on the couch cushions.

“Off.” Nicky ordered, grabbing at his shirt. Mark lifted his arms, obliging and shit, that was exactly Nicky's type. Soft and warm and hairy and smelling so fucking good Nicky wanted to wrap himself up in it forever. He settled for wrapping himself up in it for now, rubbing his face into a collarbone and feeling hair crush to his chest. He rolled them over again, laying atop Mark so he could get a better view. Hands drifted down his back, then palmed hesitantly over his arse. Nicky pushed back into it, then ground down, feeling hard flesh under him.

“You wanna grab my arse?” Nicky asked, when he felt the hands pull away and settle again. Mark looked up at him, his eyes dark with lust, muddled with uncertainty.

“Yeah.” He said quietly. Nicky nodded, reaching back to take a hand, replacing it gently on his left cheek when it went to pull away. He held it there, squeezed for a moment. He loved having his arse grabbed, loved the firm, promising feeling of a hand on him.

“Grab away.” He smirked. “I'm going to grab yours, in a minute.”

“Promise?” Mark laughed, his voice deep and husky. Nicky smirked, bending down for another kiss.

“Harder than that, babe.” He murmured, when he felt the tentative squeeze of a hand. “Come on, Mark. Grab my arse. Get a really good grip. I fucking love it.” He felt Mark shudder, heard a soft squeak, and then Mark was pushing him away, looking wide-eyed and panicked. “What?” Nicky was asking already. “Shit, you okay?”

“Yeah. I... I...” He swallowed hard. “Too close. I'm going to...”

“Oh. Shit. Okay.” Nicky sat back up, raising his hands slowly, sliding away a little bit. “It's cool. Calm down.” He glanced down. Shit, Mark was really hard, was tenting his work trousers in a way that was utterly debauched. Kian hadn't been kidding. A bit of foreplay and he was off. Nicky would have felt sort of flattered, had he not had Kian's notes to compare to.

The doorbell rang.

“Erm...” Nicky stood up, backing away slightly and reaching out to get his wallet off the coffee table. “I'll... be back in a minute.” He went to the door, opened it just enough to hand the guy the money, pull the bag through the gap. He got a bemused look, but ignored it, shutting the door again. He dumped the bag in the kitchen, not remotely interested in food now, and headed back to the couch Mark was bright red, was looking down at himself like he wasn't sure if it was attached to the rest of him. “Hey...” Nicky murmured, reaching out to touch his cheek. “It's fine. You want me to take the edge off?”

“I um... shit.” Mark buried his face in his hands, dislodging Nicky's fingers. “Sorry. Shit.”

“It's cool. I'm flattered.” He chuckled, leaning in. “I was getting there myself, to be honest. You felt really good.” He put an arm around his shoulder, tried to give him as nonsexual a hug as possible. Felt Mark lean against him, his cheek warm with embarrassment. “You're lovely. Just chill out, okay? It's not a problem.”

“Okay. Yeah.” The body against him relaxed slightly. He kissed Mark's hair, holding him tight. “Sorry.”

“It's cool.” Nicky said again. He reached out, tilting Mark's chin up so they could look at each other. “Gonna take care of you.”

 

*

 

Mark nodded. He felt fucking mortified, was tempted to bolt from the room, except that would make his predicament even more obvious. He was on a knife-edge, had been since Nicky had asked him to grab his arse. Not just that, but had  _ told _ him to do it, said how much he wanted it. And that was it. All his careful restraint while they'd been kissing had just dropped, and he was suddenly there, teetering on the precipice and ready to go off.

But Nicky's eyes were kind, and he really didn't seem to be upset. Was just stroking his cheek gently, talking to him like it wasn't even a big deal. Mark felt like it was, felt like a pathetic, virginal idiot. Had felt like one when Nicky had asked what he'd wanted and he hadn't known what the hell to say. He didn't know. He'd jerk off, sure, but that was just mechanical. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, what would feel good, and then all of a sudden he'd felt too good and nothing had even happened yet.

But Nicky was letting go, was kneeling down, his fingers edging down Mark's zipper while Mark bit his lip, trying to focus past it. Then there was cool air on his cock, and fingers were tugging him out.

“That's really nice.” Nicky said softly. Mark closed his eyes, trying not to think too hard about Nicky's mouth being that close to him, but then that was all he could think, when a hot tongue caressed the head before he was taken in, deep and wet, his fingernails digging into the fabric of the sofa cushion.

“Fuck. Nicky.” He gasped. Heard a soft laugh. Not directed at him, just affectionate, sweet. He looked down, saw eyes that looked up at him, wanting, and that was it. He was gone, feet digging into the carpet when his head tipped back and he came with a shout, his orgasm unstoppable against the sight of Nicky sinking low, lips stretched around him.

Nicky pulled off, spat into the balled-up fabric of his own t-shirt, then looked up again, his fingers running soothingly up Mark's inner thigh.

“So fucking gorgeous.” He murmured. Mark couldn't manage much more than a panting groan back, and he heard Nicky giggle, felt him climb up and settle into his lap, knees straddling his thighs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Mark bit out. “Sorry.”

“I'm not.” Nicky murmured, kissing his ear. “Now we've got that taken care of, we can go all night, if you like. Think I can make you come again?”

He was pretty sure Nicky could make him come right now, but he wasn't going to say that out loud.

“Do you want dinner?” Nicky asked. Mark nodded, feeling like he should be returning the favour, not sure if it was welcome, not if Nicky was moving onto other topics. “Grand. Grab some bowls, and I'll go get us a blanket. I think pyjamas are in order too. You want to sleep over?”

Mark hesitated, not sure at all. But Nicky's smile was welcoming, and he suddenly didn't think there was anywhere else he wanted to be, even with the blush still sitting hot in his cheeks.

“I'll get you something to wear. Snuggles and some dinner.” Lips pressed to his ear again. “Don't worry about it. We've got all the time in the world.”

 

*

 

“Hey babe, you ready?” Kian exited the bathroom, fixing up the last of his hair. They weren't going clubbing tonight – Kian had an early start, had the senior students' orchestra practice on at seven in the morning. They were coming up on a concert for the parents in a few weeks and were putting in extra lessons to keep up. But Shane had been a bit down for the last week and Kian wanted to take him out for dinner, keep his mind off his family.

“Erm... in a sec.” Shane said finally, sounding weird. Sort of flat and non-committal. Kian wandered out to see what was up. Shane did get vague sometimes, just zoned out. Kian adored it.

He was sitting on the couch, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees, phone held slackly in one hand, his face buried in the other.

“Shay? What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” His hand left his face and he sat up a little straighter, but Kian would have had to be an idiot to miss the tears standing in his eyes. “I'll be five minutes. Where are we going?”

“Shay...” Kian crouched down in front of him, putting a hand on his knee. “Talk to me. I want to help.”

“You can't.” He sniffed, and then he was crying. Kian scooped him up, pulling him forward until they were both knelt on the floor, sobs starting to shake the man he loved. “I'm sorry.”

“What happened?” Kian soothed, stroking his hair. Shane took a deep, shuddering breath, his voice thick and wet. Kian kissed his forehead, holding him close.

“Mam's died.” He whispered. Kian felt his heart drop.

“Oh god, I'm sorry.” He breathed. “I'm so sorry, Shane.”

“I'm... I'm...” He trailed off, gulping. “Funeral's next Saturday.”

“Do you want to go?” Kian asked softly. “We can if you want.”

“I don't know.” Shane's voice sounded thin. He turned his face into Kian's neck, spreading tears. “No. Yes.”

“Don't think about it yet.” He ran fingers through dark hair, stroked his shaking back with the other hand. “It's fine. Let's just...” He sat down properly, back rested against the front of the couch, tugged Shane into his lap, and just held him. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” Shane murmured, his arms tight around Kian's neck. “Love you so much.”

 

*

 

Nicky's bed was comfortable. Partly because it was a lot nicer that his, but also because it had Nicky in it. They were laid face-to-face, the blanket tugged up around their shoulders. Not kissing, not really, just foreheads pressed together, hands entwined between them.

They'd watched some TV, snuggled up under a blanket and eaten rice and spring rolls and drank wine. Mark had never been much for wine, but Nicky's taste hadn't let him down yet and he found himself having two glasses, sinking down under the blanket when they'd finished eating and Nicky slid over to sit against the arm-rest, holding his arms out and pulling Mark in to settle down against his chest. He was hard, Mark could feel it underneath him when they'd been laying there a bit, but Nicky didn't say anything so he didn't either, just tucked his head into Nicky's neck and felt hands stroke his back.

He yawned, and when he opened his eyes Nicky was yawning too. He laughed, getting a sleepy smile back.

“I'm knackered.” Nicky murmured. “Not used to all these late nights.”

“Sorry, have I been tiring you out?”

“Yeah, but it's okay.” Fingers skated his cheek, brushed down towards his chin, cupping it and tilting him into a gentle kiss. “Kissing you makes it better.”

“It does.” Mark agreed. “I... erm... sorry about before.”

“What was before?” Nicky asked, his face carefully blank. Mark appreciated it. “It's fine.” He assured him. Mark appreciated that too. “Honestly, we can work with that.” His fingers drifted a little lower, playing with the collar of a baggy t-shirt Nicky had leant him. It wasn't so baggy on Mark, but it fitted okay with his boxer shorts. He was glad he'd worn proper ones instead of boxer-briefs or something, just for a bit of cover-up. Though Nicky had had his mouth on Mark's cock, so he wasn't sure why he was worried about being shy. “We have loads of time.”

“Loads?” Mark asked. “That's a commitment.”

“Ah, well I won't mention the loads of time that comes after that. It'll scare you right off.” Nicky smirked, making Mark laugh. He didn't feel scared at all. Felt warm and safe.

“How much is loads, then?”

“I dunno. We'll know when we get there.” Nicky shrugged. “But for now, it's getting late, and we should go to sleep.”

“Yeah.” He didn't want to. Knew he had to. He had class the next morning, just had to get through one more day and then find an excuse to spend the whole weekend with Nicky. “Night.”

Lips touched gently to his. He returned the kiss, felt an arm come around his waist, pull them closer together.

“Night.” Nicky whispered back.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Mark's alarm went off early. He'd set it with plenty of time, knew he'd have to get home, get changed, and then get into work by eight-thirty. It was just before six, and he jolted up in bed, not sure where he was for a moment, until he saw Nicky laying next to him, his face planted in the pillow, arms spread across the mattress. He'd wriggled out of his pyjamas sometime during the night, was down to a pair of black boxer-briefs that hugged his arse really well. Mark paused for a moment, taking in the sinuous curve of his spine, the slight ginger hair on his legs, the smooth, firm shape of his bum.

The tramp stamp on his lower back.

He reached out, his fingers finding the shape of interlocking celtic knots, black against his skin. Pulled his hand back when Nicky murmured in his sleep and then cracked an eye open, his face turning to look up at Mark.

“Morning.” He croaked sleepily.

“Morning.” Mark exhaled, then reached out, letting his fingers trace the shape of the tattoo again. “What's this?”

“'This' is getting drunk and homesick on a football conference in Spain when I was seventeen.” Nicky chuckled. “It's fucking awful, I know.'

“It's cute.” He smiled, brushing his thumb over the lines his fingers had finished tracing. “Just have the one?”

“Just the one.” Nicky nodded. “You have any?”

“No.” Mark shook his head. “Did it hurt?”

“Yeah.” Nicky stretched slightly, but didn't make any effort to get up, so Mark rested his hand on his lower back, watching the thick black lines peek through his fingers. “Like you wouldn't believe. Then it bled a lot, then it got a big scab. Showers were hell for a week. Worst idea of my life.”

“You're still gorgeous.” Mark shrugged, got a pouting smile back. “I have to get going. I have to be at work.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded. “I should probably get sorted out too. Do you want to shower here?”

 

*

 

Mark was in the shower while Nicky made a quick breakfast and waited for his turn. He'd considered climbing in with him, but that felt a bit too full-on when they hadn't seen each other naked yet. He was determined to take this slow, to ease into it gradually, to make this count as something that wasn't him shagging for a bet.

God, but Mark had tasted so fucking good.

It had been a bit disappointing, of course, though not unsurprising. Kian had warned him in advance, but Nicky found he didn't really mind. It wasn't the sex that was making this fun. It was Mark, who was just the loveliest thing Nicky had had in his life for a long time, who was making him feel things he didn't think he was quite ready for yet when they'd only known each other a week.

Who was singing in the shower, sounding like a fucking angel.

He sat down to listen, surprised. He was belting out something, some tune from a musical that Nicky half-recognised. His voice was clear and soulful, a bit growly in a way that was utterly sexy. He found himself forgetting his breakfast, and by the time Mark came back out he'd barely touched it.

“Shower's free.” Mark was dressed already. Nicky was a little disappointed. “What?”

Nicky shook himself, realising he'd been caught staring.

“You can sing.”

“I'm okay.” Mark shrugged, looking disinterested, but there was a slight blush building in his cheeks. “I have to get going. I've got to get changed and...”

“Yeah. Of course.” Nicky bit his lip, suddenly wanting them both to be horribly sick so they could call work and stay here. He stood up, walking into the kitchen. He'd made Mark a breakfast as well, just some muesli and yoghurt in a styrofoam cup. “Here, take this. You won't get time to eat otherwise, and I don't want you starving.”

“Don't think that'll be a problem.” Mark looked down, a hand patting his stomach. “You've been feeding me all week. I'm getting fat.”

“Definitely not.” Nicky pushed the cup into his hand. “Just keeping your energy up.”

“Will I need it?” Mark bit one gorgeous, full lip. Nicky laughed, leaning in to kiss it, felt teeth move out of the way and lips part. Sank into it, wanting to stay there all day. But he needed to shower, needed to get dressed, needed to go to work. Mark did too. Fucking life, always getting in the way.

“Soon, definitely.” Nicky promised, pulling back. Mark's eyes were bright, a little excited. Nicky hugged him and... oh, the rest of him was a little excited too. “Have a good day.”

“I will.” Mark kissed him again. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Any time.”

 

*

 

Classes dragged. It was Friday, so the students looked as disinterested as he felt. He kept them occupied, though. Exams were coming up, and there was nothing like a pop quiz when he'd been too busy making out with Nicky to get a lesson organised.

Making out with Nicky.

He still felt totally self-concious. Couldn't believe he'd come so fast like that, really hadn't meant to. But Nicky was beautiful and sexy and made noises that seemed to rip through Mark like electricity, said things that were forward but not scary, asking for what he wanted when Mark had no idea what there was to want. Except Nicky. God, he wanted Nicky.

He knew, objectively, of course he did. He'd fucked Kian that one time. Wanted that again, tight around him. Not Kian. Wanted Nicky, making those sounds like last night, kissing him deep and hard, clenching around him, pulling him in.

Wanted not to be getting a stiffy sitting in front of a room of minors. Catholic minors.

He stayed seated until it went away, tried to focus as hard as he possibly could on eighteenth century politics. It really wasn't a distraction, but the students weren't really looking at him anyway.

He had lunch. Texted Nicky. Just something random, got a text back almost straight away.

He got the kids to break off into pairs after lunch, practice their conversational French. It was a nice way to pass some time without having to get too involved. Do you have a cat? Yes I have a cat. What's your favourite colour? My favourite colour is blue. What is your mother's name? My mother's name is Caroline.

School let out in the afternoon. He considered going straight to Nicky's, but didn't know if he should. Texted him to see if he wanted to meet up this weekend, didn't get a reply straight away. He went home, had a bit of a tidy-up and got a head start on sorting out his lesson plans for next week, knowing that if Nicky called the whole weekend would probably be a write off.

He got a text about two hours later.

**Sorry. Was in a meeting. What you doing tonight?**

 

*

 

Nicky was fucking bored. He'd been cold-calling all morning, ringing up businesses and asking if they were interested in advertising with RTE. He'd been told to fuck off twice, sod off once, and been hung up on at least thirty times. His arm hurt from holding the phone. His ear hurt as well.

He had managed a couple of things, though, gotten a second-hand car lot signed up to thirty days of fifteen second slots, and was still negotiating with an electrician. It hadn't been an awful day, all told, but he sort of needed the commission if he was going to keep taking Mark out like this.

But he liked doing it. He knew Mark had tried to pay a few times, but he didn't want that. Maybe it was the guilt, knowing why he had started doing this in the first place, but he didn't want Mark to lift a finger, didn't want to owe him anything. Maybe a part of him was hoping that if Mark ever found out the reason he'd been asked out he'd be able to put it aside if he remembered how nice Nicky had been through the whole process. Some sort of retroactive forgiveness. Some reminder that Nicky had taken him seriously, that he it hadn't all been a joke.

Nicky was taking this seriously.

But he couldn't talk to Shane or Kian about that yet. It was too soon. It was too weird to say that he thought he was kind of smitten with this guy they'd set him up with on a bet, too hard to answer the inevitable questions he didn't know how to answer to himself. He'd have to bring it up eventually, he knew that, because eventually Kian would want to shag Mark again. That was the rules. The progress had to be checked. Nicky didn't want Kian to shag Mark. He didn't want anyone to shag Mark. Mark was his.

The day crawled. Nicky considered bailing out early, but then there was a sales meeting and he ended up having to stay until six. By the time he got out there was a text on his phone.

**How was your day?**

He tapped back an apology. Asked what Mark was doing tonight.

Got a reply in a heartbeat.

**Coming round to yours?**

That sounded pretty good. Nicky told him to bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

 

*

 

“Oh...” Nicky was making sounds underneath him, his hands fisting in Mark's hair while they kissed hard, grinding together. He was hard, but was doing okay keeping control, even though it was a definite challenge. “Mark, I...” He gulped in a breath, groaning when Mark slid kisses up his jaw, began to mouth at his earlobe. He'd liked this himself when Nicky had done it to him the night before, so he figured there must be something in it.

They hadn't even considered dinner. Mark had knocked on the door, a backpack over his shoulder. It had hit the floor a moment later when Nicky had launched at him, his feet off the ground for a second when his legs had wrapped around Mark's waist, arms braced around his shoulders. Mark had laughed, surprised, and a moment later they'd ended up on the couch, making out like teenagers.

“Right there...” Nicky breathed, arching into him when he scraped teeth down his neck, just trying to replicate what had been done to him. “God, you turn me on.”

“You too.” Mark managed, got a giggling moan in reply. “Want you.”

“Yeah.” Nicky claimed his mouth again, tongue pushing deep. “How far you wanna go?” Mark didn't bloody know. He wanted everything. Nicky. Wasn't sure what he was ready for, how far he could get without looking like an idiot. “You wanna suck me?”

Oh. Oh, that was a good thought. He felt himself twitch in his jeans, all his careful control starting to melt away.

“Yeah.” He admitted. “I... I really do.”

“I really want you to suck me.” Nicky said softly. His chest was heaving under Mark, his eyes hooded. He licked his lips, looking up, his hands reaching between them. Mark helped, tugging his trousers down once the belt was undone, getting that first glimpse of the hard ridge tenting tight black cotton.

It was big. It was really big, bigger than Mark had expected. He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Felt a bit inadequate. Ran his fingers carefully up the length of it, felt it warm and swollen under his fingertips, wrapped his fingers around the shape of it, felt the curve fit to his hand. Nicky whimpered above him, eyes taking it in.

“S'nice.” Mark breathed.

“It really is.” Nicky agreed, pushing up slightly. Mark reached for the elastic waistband, lifted it slightly, saw the head peek out, and then more as he tugged it down, trying not to snag on anything. Nicky hissed, head tipping back when Mark hesitantly ran his thumb over the head, feeling moisture streak his fingers. He tugged the briefs off, got a look at it, hard and frightening when he curved his hand around it, stroked it slowly, experimentally. Nicky's knees flopped out, all invitation, and Mark bent to run his tongue slowly up the shaft, getting a feel for it.

“Okay?” He asked, looking up. Nicky nodded, something indefinable hidden behind the lust. Something slow and assessing that Mark wasn't sure of. He bent his head again, taking the head between his lips and sinking down, trying to go as far as he could. He gagged, though, and didn't make it much further before he had to pull up again, sucking at the head while he tried to figure out his next move.

“You look so fucking gorgeous.” Nicky breathed, fingers tangling in his hair. “Want me to show you what I like?”

Mark nodded, getting the feeling he'd already cocked this up and Nicky was just trying to be polite. But then Nicky was sitting up slightly, his back against the armrest, and Mark was pulling off, all ready to apologise.

“Do this.” Nicky opened his mouth, then Mark watched him suck his lips back a little bit, covering his teeth. He looked like an old man who'd lost his dentures and Mark giggled for a moment at the sight, his discomfort momentarily forgotten. “Okay, we're gonna do this slow.” His free hand reached down, wrapping around his own shaft, guiding it slowly to Mark's lips. It brushed them for a moment, just circled the edge, the head slick on his mouth. “Wanna take a little bit?

“Yeah.” Mark replied, though it sounded funny with his lips sucked back like this. A moment later it pushed in slightly, then a little more. Not too deep, just comfortable, filling his mouth while he breathed through his nose. It tasted good, tasted like being filled up with sex, with Nicky. Nicky groaned softly, arching a little.

“Oh, that's nice.” He muttered. He closed his eyes for a long moment, then opened them, looking at Mark. “Use your tongue. Lick me.” Mark did, after a moments hesitation, began to run his tongue over what he could reach, sucking slightly so he didn't drool. Nicky let out a gasp, his fingers tightening in Mark's hair. “Oh Jesus, yes.” He closed his eyes again, head tilting back. “Can you go any deeper?”

Mark didn't know how to reply with a mouthful of cock, so he shook his head as much as he dared, keeping his lips sucked back. His face was sort of aching, but he didn't really mind, not when Nicky was moving slowly, tilting into him.

“That's fine. Use your hand. Stroke... fuck.” He broke off when Mark pulled back a little so he could run his tongue around the head. “Stroke the rest. Jerk me.”

That Mark knew how to do. He got a grip, felt coarse hair against his little finger when he started a slow rhythm, feeling his thumb hit his mouth where it ran out of room. He wasn't taking much, but there was a lot of Nicky and he tried to get a rhythm going with his mouth as well, bobbing as much as he could and swirling his tongue around.

“Yes...” Nicky hissed, and then his hips were moving and Mark was so fucking hard himself because he was doing this to Nicky, to this gorgeous, sexy man who seemed to have all the time in the world for him.

It seemed to take a long time, but he didn't mind, not even with his jaw starting to hurt, not even when he drooled a little down his chin, accidentally slicking the hand moving below it. Oh, and Nicky liked  _ that _ so he did it a little more, feeling it begin to move easier, feeling Nicky's breath come harder and higher as he sped up his movements, tasted slippery salt on his tongue.

“Christ.” Nicky gasped finally. “I'm gonna come. Oh fuck, Mark...” He arched, and Mark looked up to see blue eyes that were turned almost black, parted wet lips, a heaving chest. “If you don't wanna swallow...”

Mark didn't know if he did, but it was too late. Nicky groaned, a hand tightening on the side of his face while he filled Mark's mouth. It was a shock, at first, thick and slimy and sort of the texture of egg-white. He didn't want to swallow, so he just sort of held it, let it pulse into him, Nicky's soft cries delicious in his ears.

He pulled out, and Mark reached for a napkin off the table, still there from last night's Chinese food, and spat. He heard Nicky laugh, then sigh, and looked up to see sleepy blue eyes watching him, an affectionate smirk on his lips.

“You've got cum all over your face.” He observed. Mark laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and feeling his numb, swollen lips slide with fluid. “That was beautiful.” He reached over to snag another napkin and pulled Mark closer, tugging him in to snuggle into his chest and reaching down to wipe his face off properly. “Okay for you?"

“Yeah.” Mark nodded shyly. “You're really big.” He commented, as though that was some excuse for not getting that much in. Nicky snorted, kissing his hair.

 

*

 

Blowing Mark was good. He drew it out as much as possible, going really slowly. Partly so it would last, but also so Mark could see what a decent blowjob was supposed to look like. Not that he could say he was any mad expert, he wasn't that arrogant. He hadn't pushed too far before, had just given him the basics to work with, hadn't wanted to overload the poor kid too early, but shit, Mark had taken to it like a duck to water. Nicky couldn't wait to get the training wheels off and go for something a bit more advanced.

Like sucking Mark's balls, his hand working the shaft in short, sharp tugs, thumb making circles on the head. It was a bit like rubbing your stomach and patting your head, but this wasn't exactly his first try and Mark  _ really  _ seemed to appreciate it, was crying out when Nicky licked back up his cock and sank down hard, breathing him in, relaxing his throat.

He really liked Mark's dick. It wasn't huge, but it wasn't disappointing either, just a solid, comfortable girth that stretched his mouth enough to make him feel a little suffocated but still with room to move. It tasted good too, just like the rest of him.

“Nicky...” Mark gasped, his hands clenching on his thighs. Nicky threaded one of his own hands into one, feeling it grip tight while his other hand held Mark still, cradling him against his face while he pulled off and mouthed down the side, inhaling his scent, the head sliding between forked fingers that squeezed slightly, keeping the rhythm.

“You taste so fucking good.” Nicky growled, knowing his voice was vibrating off damp, delicate flesh when Mark whimpered, his hand squeezing tighter in Nicky's. “You gonna come?”

“Yes. Soon. Jesus, I...”

“Hold it.” Nicky ordered. “Hold it a little longer.” He heard Mark suck back a breath, looked up to see his eyes closed in concentration. He sucked the head back in, sliding his forked fingers down the length then getting a proper grip, stroking back up.

“Ah...” Mark cut off his cry with a bitten lip. “Feels too good.” He groaned. “Jesus, Nicky, I can't...”

Nicky pulled up, the taste changing already. Mark looked gorgeous, was gasping, a flush spilling into his chest, staining his neck. His lips were thoroughly swollen from before, from the kissing, from Nicky's cock in his mouth.

“Come for me.” He murmured softly, watching Mark react, arch into his voice. “Come for me, love.”

“Nicky!” Mark yelped, then he came. It was beautiful, bowing hard, spilling over Nicky's hand. Nicky bent, finding the rhythm of the pulse and stroking him to it, urging it out when he opened his mouth and felt salty fluid spurt over his lips, paint his tongue, looked up to see Mark trying to watch, his eyes fluttering shut then shooting open again, not able to focus though he obviously wanted to. Nicky jerked the last of him out, kissed his way back up the shaft, then let go, watching Mark's whole body twitch.

“So sexy.” He whispered, licking up Mark's jaw. “Love making you come.”

“Sorry.” Mark breathed, between gasps.

“What for?” Nicky murmured. “You're perfect.”

“Oh.” Mark bit his lip, watching Nicky slowly. Nicky smiled back, then realised his face was still covered in cum and reached for another napkin. He wiped off quickly, then leant back in to kiss the younger man. “Really?”

“Really really.” Nicky agreed. He was. Inexperienced, nervous, sure. But Mark was not bad in bed. No. He was too earnest, too eager to please for that. He wasn't selfish, just needed a bit of practice. Nicky could do that. Anyway, he had three more weeks. Somehow he didn't think he'd need them. “I should feed you or something. Do you want food?” It was late now, too late to order in. Pushing nine-thirty. Fuck, where had the time gone? “I can make you a sandwich or something?”

“I'm fine.” Mark murmured. He was looking sleepy now, all spent and happy. Nicky ran his fingers through dark hair, kissed a sweaty forehead. “I sort of want a shower.” He scrubbed his face. There was a little cum stuck in his hair, and his cheeks were sort of shiny under dried spit and fluid. “Do you mind?”

“Do you want me to join you?” Nicky asked. Mark laughed, pushing himself up.

“Yeah, I think that'd be for the best.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Being with Mark was easy. He stayed the night, spooned around Nicky's back while they slept, then Nicky woke up in the morning to fingers stroking down his sides, mapping him out, and pulled a hand around, pressed it to his morning erection in open invitation and said 'touch me'. And Mark had, tugging slowly, his mouth sliding over Nicky's neck and shoulders, hand hooked around his waist, his own erection grinding into Nicky's back while he'd stroked him, held him close, Mark's bitten-off gasps hot and wet on his ear.

Nicky had come, his arm reached back and tangled in Mark's hair, holding them together. Then he'd turned over and slid down, finished Mark off with his mouth, not able to help himself when he saw dark, sleepy eyes that looked at him in quiet, fond amazement.

Then he'd slid back up, kissed him gently, and asked what he wanted to do today.

They stayed in bed, more or less. Got up to shower, then got back into bed, watched some TV, rolled around for a bit. Had a nap. Rolled around a bit more, Mark getting braver now, grabbing at Nicky's arse again, his hands large and firm while they'd rocked together, grinding into each other until Nicky had come all over both of them. Until Mark had buried his face in Nicky's neck and come too.

They ate in bed, licking random crumbs off each other. Mark was sat up against the head in a tshirt and boxers, Nicky slouched naked between his thighs, a carton of dry Froot Loops on the bed next to him. Mark liked the purple ones. Nicky liked the green ones. They split the blue ones. Nicky got up to make cups of tea, and they sat cross-legged on the bed, dunking their cereal in the tea until the milk was swirling with odd colours and tasted like artificial flavouring. It was perversely domestic. Mark kissed him. Nicky kissed back.

It was late in the afternoon when Kian called.

Nicky took it, leaning against the head of the bed with Mark's head on his thigh while the younger boy flicked through a magazine he'd found under the bed when he'd gone hunting for some spilled Froot Loops. It was just a shitty old porn mag Nicky couldn't remember buying, though the date pegged it for at least two years old.

“Hey, Ki, what's up?”

“Hey Nix, what you doing?”

“Just hanging out.” He looked down at Mark, who looked up, smiling. “Mark's visiting.”

“Oh, is he?” There was a snicker on the other end, and Nicky felt himself rankle a little bit, not at all liking the assumption in Kian's voice. Not that it wasn't true. They'd been shagging like mad all day, and even if it was mostly just groping and blowjobs, it was still fairly lovely. Post-orgasmic Mark might be his new favourite thing. “How's it going? Still terrible?”

“Don't know what you're talking about.” Nicky replied, trying to word things carefully so Mark wouldn't get suspicious. “Think you might have been wrong on this one.”

There was a slight pause.

“Er... what?” Kian asked. “How so?”

“Might have been a bit of a misjudge. Difference in taste, you know? We can't all like the same things.” Nicky pointed out. “Anyway, I'm having a great day, so why are you interrupting me?”

“Erm...” Kian sounded like he didn't know quite what to say. It was sort of a good feeling, rubbing it in. “We're going out tonight. You want to come?”

“Can I bring Mark?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Kian said hesitantly. Mark looked up, his face a question. Nicky kissed the tips of his own fingers and pressed them to the end of a long, straight nose, smirking when Mark stuck his tongue out to lick them. “Why? Is he your boyfriend or something?”

“Or something.” Nicky agreed. “He'll be my company while you two are off shagging strangers, or each other. He's very good company.” Mark was going a bit pink at that. Nicky stroked his hair. “Just a second.” He put his hand over the receiver, turned to the young man laid between his legs. “You want to go out tonight? We can try all the cocktails.”

“Sounds fun.” Mark nodded, though his eyes suggested he sort of wanted to stay here. Nicky knew how he felt. “I don't have any going out clothes with me.”

“We'll drop by yours, it's fine.” Nicky assured him. He went back to the phone. “We're in. Nine-ish?”

“Yeah, meet out the front of the usual McDonalds.” Kian agreed. “And erm...” He sighed. “Look, I didn't say anything but... don't mention Sligo or parents or anything, okay? Shane's a bit...”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just want to get him out for a bit. Some stuff's happened and I shouldn't be telling you about it, but just lay off, okay?”

“Of course.” Nicky promised. “I'll let Mark know.”

“Okay, thanks.” Kian paused. “Have... fun, I guess.”

“I definitely will.” Nicky laughed, looking down at Mark again. “I'll see you tonight.”

 

*

 

“How's the magazine?” Nicky asked. Mark looked down. He'd been flipping through it for a bit, trying to look nonchalant, but getting a little bit freaked out by what was on display. A little bit turned on as well. They were supposed to be getting up and going out soon, apparently, but Mark couldn't make himself find his clothes, not when Nicky was tucked up under his arm, peering down at the magazine Mark was holding.

“Good. Great articles.” He joked, though the page he was on had exactly zero text on it, just three lads in very small speedos, all with their cocks poking out over the top. Two of them were kissing.

“They look fascinating.” Nicky teased. “I don't even remember buying that thing.”

“You didn't want to read...” Mark flicked through to one he'd seen earlier. “ _Ten hot positions he'll love?_ ”

“Will he, though? I think I'd put my neck out.” Nicky laughed, looking at the rather acrobatic lads on display. “Which ones have you done?”

“Erm... none of them?” Mark shrugged. He'd considered lying, but then there might be more questions and he wasn't sure he wanted to explain to Nicky why he was useless at blowjobs but had managed to perfect the... Pirate's Bounty? Fair enough. “Just boring old missionary, I guess.”

“Well, that's depressing.” Nicky kissed his cheek to take the sting out of the words. “You're missing out. I've done...” His finger moved over the page, mouth silently forming numbers. “Four. And a half, if you count this one, but in reverse.”

“How did you do that in reverse?” It looked uncomfortable, a guy lying in his back, knees up to his chest, while another one squatted down on top of him, facing away.

“With a lot of stretching in advance.” Nicky laughed. “It was like this, but I was facing towards the guy. It was really awkward, we kept falling over.” Mark started to laugh as well, he couldn't help himself. Nicky giggled, kissing his cheek again. “Do you want to try any of them?”

“I don't know.” Mark shrugged. “I reckon they're a bit advanced.”

“Are you a top or bottom?”

“I'm not sure. I've only really done the top part.” Nicky looked up at him, and where he thought he was going to get a shocked look he only got an affectionate smile, Nicky's hand curling into his. “What are you?”

“Depends on the person.” Nicky shrugged. “I'm not a raging bottom like Shane or Kian, but I'll definitely take it from the right guy. Definitely give it, as well.” He looked up at Mark. “Honestly I'm not all that hung up on it. It's nice, but I don't need it. If the rest of the sex is good, then it's just a bonus, not a requirement. I've been with some lads who didn't want to do it at all.”

“Really?” Mark asked. He'd just sort of taken it for granted that... “Why not?”

“No interest. It's a big step, for a lot of people. For me. I have to really like someone before I'll bend over.”

“I get ya.” Mark nodded. “Have you done it with many people?”

“No, not really. Not as much as other people, anyway. For bottom, maybe... two? Three people? For top, probably two of those and one more. It was really nice with all of them, though. I wouldn't want to ruin it by doing with someone who wasn't worth it.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded slowly, not sure how to react to that, not sure whether to ask the obvious question. Nicky answered it anyway, looking up and pressing a kiss to his chin.

“You're worth it.” He said. “But we've got plenty of time. We'll get there. And if you don't want to, that's fine too.” He knelt up, beginning to kiss Mark slowly. He closed his eyes, Nicky's touch totally intoxicating as always. “We've got half an hour before we get a move on.” Nicky murmured, nibbling at his bottom lip. “Wanna do something fun?”

 

*

 

Nicky looked appreciatively over at Mark, wishing they were back home and out of these clothes. They were nice clothes. They'd headed back to Mark's to get something clean to wear, and Nicky had taken great pleasure in rummaging through his closet, pulling out things he thought would look good. His wardrobe wasn't all that adventurous, mostly plain button-up work shirts and black trousers, but Nicky had found a really hot black t-shirt with a skull and crossbones pattern. Mark pulled a face, said he hadn't worn it in years, and it was too small anyway. It wasn't. It was fitted over his chest in a way that was painfully attractive, especially with a pair of black jeans and a red jacket. He looked sexy and dangerous, especially when he'd grudgingly let Nicky do his hair.

He was tugging at the t-shirt now, pulling it loose where it was tight over his stomach. Nicky wanted to fuck him badly. Wanted to drag him into the toilets and show him that there was no reason at all to be self-conscious. He settled for slipping his hand into a warmer, softer, bigger one, felt it grab his in return. Got a sweet smile when Nicky managed to drag his eyes away from Mark's body for a second and actually look at his face.

“You look so fucking sexy.” He murmured. Mark laughed, looking down at himself in the yellow light of the McDonalds sign.

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You'd be wrong, then.” Nicky retorted. “I'm gonna have to keep an eye out, stop other lads from jumping on you.”

“You're mental.” Mark snorted, his face shy.

“No, I just have excellent taste.” Nicky grinned, turning to press a kiss to Mark's cheek. He had noticed over the last week that Mark wasn't really a public displays of affection guy, and he got it. He was in a delicate position with his job and wasn't really out yet. Still, it was hard not being all over him. Very hard, he thought with a smirk. “You look utterly fuckable.”

“What did I look like before?”

“Utterly fuckable.” Nicky repeated, got a bashful smile back. “I am going to shag you rotten when we get home.”  


"I don't think I could go again.” Mark sighed. “You've run me dry.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised.” Nicky smirked. “I'm very encouraging.”

“You are.” Mark agreed. He went quiet then, and Nicky reached out to run a hand down his cheek, getting a hesitant smile in return. Dark eyebrows knitted for a moment, and then they were looking at each other, Mark's hand alighting on his hip for a moment before pulling away. “If I say something... and if it's totally weird... can we just forget it?”

“I can do that.” Nicky nodded. “I'm about to start drinking, anyway, so get enough vodka in me and it'll all even out.” He leaned in, feeling arms wrap tentatively around his waist. “What did you want to say?”

“I um...” He kissed Nicky's forehead. “I really like you. Like, I really really like you. I know it's not been that long, but...” He shook his head. “I don't want to shag other people. I really don't. I just wondered...”

“If I wanted to shag other people?” Nicky prompted. Mark nodded.

“It's weird, isn't it? Like too soon?”

“Not at all.” Nicky reached up, ran his thumb over a full lower lip. “I would love to not shag other people with you.”

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” Mark kissed his thumb, his eyes bright despite his obvious nervousness. “Cheers.”

“Absolutely.” He reached up, tweaked an errant strand of hair back into place. He hadn't really planned on shagging other people anyway, but this was nice, having someone say it. Being wanted that much. He was surprised by how much he wanted it back, though he'd never been one for the slag-around, particularly, he hadn't been exclusive much either. This was going really fast.

It was wonderful.

 

*

 

Nicky was dancing, looked totally carefree and gorgeous. Mark couldn't take his eyes off him, off the way he moved, the way his face tilted up to the ceiling when he was really feeling it. He was a bit tipsy, but that just made him looser and more beautiful, his joints flowing through the music like water.

He sat on a bar stool, a caipirinha in his hand. Nicky had chosen it for him, and it was delicious, though not as good as the mojito. It was all sugar and lime, went down way too easily. He was just considering ordering Nicky one for when he came back when Shane came over.

“Hey.” He hopped up on the barstool next to him. Something was up with these two, apparently, Nicky had warned him not to say anything about Sligo, said there was something going on with Shane's family that might be a bit touchy. They definitely seemed on edge, kept giving Mark furtive, evaluating looks that he wasn't sure he felt comfortable with.

“Hey.” Mark nodded. “Good night?”

“So far.” Shane nodded. “How've you been? Heard you've been out with Nicky a bit?”

“Yeah.” Mark took a sip of his drink, felt the sugar bounce off the alcohol and make his head spin a little. “We um... we went out a few times. Five times.” He amended. Got a surprised look.

“In a week?”

Mark nodded, looking into his drink. “It's been nice.”

“Wow, he doesn't half take his time.” Shane laughed, then, and Mark smiled, not sure what he was smiling at. He supposed it was sort of funny. It was going quickly, after all, but it was still really comfortable. And apparently now they were exclusive. He wasn't sure if that made Nicky his boyfriend, didn't want to go throwing around labels, but sort of hoped it wasn't too far off.

“I erm... stayed over a couple of times.”

“I just bet you did.” A hand slapped him gently on the back. “Well, good for you. Worked out for the best, I'd say.”

“Yeah.” Mark finished the last of his drink, put it down. “Look... erm. Thanks. Well, to Kian, I guess, but for setting us up. I feel sort of sorry for the lad who bailed, but I... I definitely appreciate it.”

Shane gave him a funny look, looked like he was about to say something, but then he smiled, squeezing Mark's shoulder.

“Not a problem. Glad it worked out.” He hopped down off the barstool. “I'm going to go dance. Coming?”

“I'm fine here.” Mark tapped the rim of his glass. “I'll have another one. Have fun, though.”

“Always do.” And with that Shane disappeared into the crowd. Mark couldn't see where he was – the lad wasn't exactly tall – but a minute later he didn't much care. Nicky sidled up, his fingers closing loosely on Mark's wrist.

“Hey.” He tugged Mark down off the barstool, pressed against him. “Come dance with me.”

Mark shook his head. “You really don't want me to do that.”

“I do.” Fingers stroked down his neck, Nicky's eyes slightly unfocused with drink. “I'll teach you. I like teaching you.” His voice was hoarse, and full of promise. “Come on. I'll take care of you.”

“I'll look like an idiot.” He protested. Nicky shrugged, and after a minute Mark realised he was being led slowly towards the dancefloor, Nicky walking backwards, their bodies pressed together. “Seriously, I'll just have a drink or four.”

“I'll buy you a drink or four.” Nicky pouted. They stepped up a little, and when Mark looked down the floor was shiny under his feet, all scuffed polished wood. “If you dance with me, I'll suck you in the toilets.”

“Classy.” Mark replied, trying not to let on how much the idea was affecting him. Hands grabbed his arse, pulling him in, and then Nicky was grinding against him. Mark let his arms close around Nicky's waist, felt him sway into the touch.

“So hot.” Nicky whispered, his voice almost lost amongst the music, more felt than heard. “This has been a really good week.”

“It has, yeah.” Mark's hips weren't trying to sway, but they were anyway, with Nicky's hands on his arse, guiding him. “What do you want to do next week?”

Nicky laughed. “I'm not sure. More of this?” He yanked in hard and sudden, pulling them together. Mark gasped, the sensation sharp against him. “Honestly, though, I could just watch TV with you, hang out a bit and eat Froot Loops and listen to you sing in the shower.”

“I can do that.” Mark confirmed. “Can we shower together?”  
  
“We'll have to. There'll be so much mess that if we take separate showers we'll waste all the hot water.” Nicky smirked.

“So it's good for the environment too?”

“Exactly.” Nicky laughed, leaning up and pulling him into a kiss, hands travelling slowly down Mark's arms, his fingertips tickling. Their fingers linked together after a moment, and Nicky turned in his arms, pulling Mark's hands over his head around to his front, crossing them over his chest. There was a slim, strong back pressed to his own chest, then, and Nicky ground back a little, making Mark bite his lip, his hands pulling Nicky closer.

 

*

 

“Wow, he dances as badly as he shags.” Kian laughed, turning to look at Shane, who had a vague frown on his face. “Hey, you okay?”

“Stop asking me that.” Shane rolled his eyes, and Kian nodded. Okay, he could do that. He put a hand on Shane's shoulder instead, leaned in to kiss his cheek. They were not too far away from the other lads, kept catching glimpses of them through the crowd. They were sort of dancing, though half the time it was more a rhythmic snog. Shane seemed okay tonight, if a bit down for obvious reasons, and Kian wanted to keep it going as long as he could.

“Sorry.” He pulled back, trying to look nonchalant. Shane pulled him back in, resting his head on his shoulder and kissing his ear. “Do you want to go home?”  
  
“I want you to stop checking on me.” Shane admonished, but his voice was gentle and Kian didn't take it personally. “Let's just get drunk, have a dance, and stumble home for a shag, yeah?”

“Sounds fun.”

“I know. I thought of it.”

“Game-changer of an idea. New experiences.”

“Exactly.” Shane agreed. Kian squeezed him, felt a giggling gasp when he hugged a bit too tight. “Eejit.”

“Yeah.” Kian agreed. “He looks good, though. Nicky's definitely been dressing him.”

“Who? Mark?” Shane pulled away, looking over. “Oh, yeah, that's Nicky's work for sure. Think he's got himself a new toy to play with. Apparently they've been out five times now?”

“In a week? Jesus, he really doesn't want to lose, does he?” Kian snorted. “He was being a real dick about it on the phone, saying we must just have different tastes and that this was going to be an easy one. Didn't realise he was working overtime. Must be desperate.”

“Yeah.” Shane laughed. “Still...” He trailed off. Kian looked at him expectantly.

“What?”

“No, just...” Shane sighed, sinking back into his arms. “I think Mark really likes him. I feel sort of bad.”

“About what?”

“I don't know. He seems like a nice guy, and Nicky's sort of playing him, you know?”

“We told him to. It was our idea.”

“Yeah, but that was when it was just a shag.” Shane kissed his neck. “Look, forget I said anything. I'm in a mood.”

“You're always in a mood.” Kian teased, got a snicker back. “There's a really cute guy over there that's been eyeing you off, did you know?”

Shane nodded. “Shagged him last week. He was okay. You can have him, if you want, but I don't think he's really your type in bed. I did blow this lad the other night that was definitely your type. If I see him I'll let you know.”

“Grand. Thanks.” Kian laughed. “Got my back?”

“Always.” Shane nodded. “You might actually be my favourite person.”

“I'm everybody's favourite person.” Kian joked. “You're probably mine, too.” He conceded grudgingly. Shane snorted, swaying back to press a kiss to his mouth. Kian deepened it in an instant, wanting to feel his boyfriend against him, felt fingers grasp his shoulders and slide up his neck while he stroked his hands up a slim back that rolled into his touch.

Shane laughed, breathing against his lips, and Kian grinned, pulling him close.

 


	9. Chapter 9

“I'm going to be late...” Mark protested. He was leaned against the bedroom wall, his arms crossed over his bare chest. He'd gotten mostly dressed, had gotten his trousers and socks on. It had been a bit difficult with Nicky hiding his shoes, but they were accounted for, finally, and now he just wanted to put his shirt on. Nicky was making it a bit tricky, was kneeling on the bed with Mark's shirt hanging off slim arms, the front open and revealing the fact that he was wearing nothing else. “Come on, Nicky, give it.”

“You want it?” He got a cheeky smirk, then rolled his eyes when Nicky reached down to grasp himself, starting to stroke slowly. “Come get it.”

“Nicky...” He sighed, holding out a hand. There was no point playing these games or he'd never get anything done, he knew that already. “Seriously. Late. Work.”

“Aw, you're no fun.” Nicky pouted, starting to to slip out of the shirt. It was in Mark's hand a second later and he tugged it on, buttoning it quickly then sitting down to put his shoes on. Nicky bounced off the bed, grabbed his jeans off the floor then shrugging into a t-shirt. He dashed into the bathroom, and by the time Mark was headed for the door he was back, his hair all done. “Come back tonight?”

“I have work to do...” He really did. Four nights at Nicky's and he'd barely been home, hadn't spared a thought for his actual responsibilities that he was getting actually paid for by his actual job.

“Do it here.” Nicky urged.

“If I'm here I won't do it.” Mark laughed. “You'll distract me.”

“Of course I won't.”

“You know you will.” He dropped a kiss on Nicky's pout. “It's one night. You'll cope.”

“Call me.”

“When I'm done working.”

“Text me, then.”

“When I'm done working.” He repeated. The last few days had been lovely, going out on Saturday night then coming home just after dawn to sleep half of Sunday away. He'd woken up first, had rummaged around in Nicky's kitchen and found enough to cobble together an afternoon breakfast of eggs, bacon and toast. Then they'd spent the rest on the day on the couch, not watching any of the DVDs Nicky had put on. He wasn't even sure what they had been, had been too focused on Nicky sitting in his lap, kissing him deep and grinding against him.

He definitely needed to work tonight, he reminded himself.

But fuck, Nicky.

“I have to go.” Mark kissed him again, knew it was dangerous, broke it before arms could wrap around his shoulders. “I'll miss you.”

“Good. You should.” Nicky pouted. “Now get out. You'll be late.”

 

*

 

Nicky waved him on, then turned to his own car. He wasn't due at work quite as early as Mark, but he was more or less ready to go and figured he could stop for breakfast on the way if he got a move on.

He slid in, pushed the key into the ignition. Turned it.

The engine made a sick, spluttering gasp. He turned it again. It sounded even worse. Then it died.

Fuck.

“Fuck.” Nicky swore out loud, smacking his hand into the dashboard. He got out, lifted the hood, had no idea what he was looking at. Closed it again. Got back in and tried it again. Nothing. Fucking nothing at all.

Fuck.

Fucking fuck.

Fuck.

He reached for his phone.

 

*

 

“Sorry, guys...” They didn't appear to be equally as sorry, when he finally managed to make it into class ten minutes late. There were feet on desks all round, and about half the girls seemed to be sitting in the corner arguing over a popstar magazine. It was probably a blessing, as he didn't have much planned, had meant to get himself together before class, but had been a bit distracted by Nicky calling him before he'd even made it three blocks, babbling something about a car that had shit itself and it was only ten minutes out of his way if he could possibly help

So he'd turned back, picked Nicky up, dropped him twenty-five minutes out of his way, promised to pick him up at five-thirty, and then gotten stuck in traffic trying to go back the other way towards the school.

He managed to make it through class, had a free period to get some stuff prepared for his next one, and did do that, but ended up texting Nicky for half of it as well, addicted to the sound of his phone beeping, knowing it was the other boy on the end.

He was pretty sure he had a problem.

The rest of the day passed. He went home, got at least a bit of work sorted out, and then went back out to pick Nicky up.

The radio station was a large imposing brick and glass building. He had absolutely zero idea where to go, so ended up parking somewhere that seemed conspicuous enough and sent Nicky a quick text to know he was here. He flicked on the radio, figured it was rude to have it turned to anything else, and switched to RTE 2fm. The Bryan McFadden show was just finishing up. It wasn't bad – he knew a lot of his students listened to it in the afternoons. They usually did the charts and celebrity interviews and stuff, a bit of mucking about and pranks and call-in competitions.

His phone beeped, and he picked it up.

**Sorry, running late. Come find me** .

He laughed, began to text back.

**I'd never be able to find you. I'm in the car.**

**We'll make it a scavenger hunt. See the door near the big tree? Go in there, take a lift to the 5th floor, take 2 lefts, a right, and there's me.**

**What do I win?**

**Donuts. I'll save you one. I have caramel custard or chocolate sprinkle.**

**Chocolate sprinkle** , Mark texted back. He climbed out then, looked doubtfully at the door across the parking lot, and started walking.

It was nice inside, carpeted and air-conditioned, with a big, high-ceilinged lobby and lots of people dashing about. He felt a bit out of his depth, wasn't sure if he was supposed to be here or if he was about to be asked to leave. There were big posters of the DJs on the walls, and the lift was next to a large one of a grinning blonde boy about his age. He recognised it as the same Bryan McFadden he'd been listening to joking with his producer about a new Black Eyed Peas song only a few minutes earlier.

He took it up, got hesitantly out in a quiet hallway and followed Nicky's directions, coming in on a largish room of cubicles, people spotted about on phones. He could see Nicky already and breathed a sigh of relief when he was waved over, getting a cheerful grin when Nicky hooked a chair from the empty cubicle next door and dragged it over, patting it. Mark sank into it.

“Hey.” He mouthed, beckoning him over. “I'm on hold.” He whispered, pouted slightly and Mark leaned in to give him the kiss he was obviously after, feeling a little self-conscious. Nobody seemed to bat an eyelid, though, and he settled back into the chair to wait. Nicky handed him a donut, winking, and he began to nibble at it. “Good day?”

Mark shrugged. “You?”

“Boring as fuck. Oh hi.” He turned back to the phone in an instant and Mark watched him totally switch over, become a different, business-like Nicky in less than a second. His voice was lower, more serious, and even his eyes dulled as he spoke. He was good, though, had the blag down to an art, was getting his way in an instant. He was typing things, nodding and making understanding noises, and then it was all over. He hung up, then turned around, his face all Nicky again. Mark studied him, unable to believe how quickly he'd become another person and then switched back. He took a bite of his donut, laughed when Nicky leaned forward, thumping his forehead down on Mark's shoulder with a put-upon sigh.

“Hey.” Mark giggled, kissing the top of his head. “All done?”

“Most definitely.” Nicky reached out, switched his computer off, then reached under his chair for his jacket. “Thanks for picking me up. I know you had work to do.”

“It's fine. I'll drop you off and then sort it out.”

They headed back downstairs, taking the stairs this time. Mark had remembered Nicky's fear of lifts, didn't know how he did it running up and down all day, though he supposed Nicky looked pretty fit. He watched the older boy move on the way down through the stairwell, the obvious tone under a wiry frame. They reached the bottom, finally, and Nicky pushed out, holding the door and then falling into step beside him.

“Tell me about your day.” He urged. Mark smirked, glancing over at him.

“French, free period, History, lunch, History, History, French.” He shrugged. “Fascinating stuff.”

“Tell me something I didn't know about history.” Nicky demanded. “But say it in French.”

“Erm...” Mark bit his lip, thinking, then laughed, quickly rattling off something that he thought Nicky would enjoy. The blonde boy was staring at him, an affectionate pout on.

“That's really sexy.”

“Is it?” Mark reached out, letting their hands slip together.

“What did you say?”

“I said that there were twelve dogs on the Titanic, and three of them made it off in lifeboats.”

“Is that true?” Nicky laughed, sounding surprised, and Mark nodded. “What kind of dogs?”  
  
“Erm... two Pomeranians, and I think a Pekingese.”

“What about the others?” Mark shrugged, let his silence speak for itself. “Oh.” Nicky said finally. “That's not really sexy at all.”

“No, not really.” Mark snorted. They were making their way across the lobby again now. “But I know you're being stalked by Titanic, so.”

“Bastard thing's following me.” Nicky agreed.

“Nicky!” Mark jumped, turned to see a sort-of familiar face make its way across the floor. It was taller than him, full of energy, and blonde, matched almost exactly the poster next to the lifts they'd just walked past.

“Hey, Bryan.” Nicky grinned, getting a slap on the back. “How's it?”

“Same as ever. Haven't seen you in ages. Still asking rich fucks to fund my rambling crap?”

“Somebody has to.” Nicky gave him a quick one-armed hug, though his other hand didn't leave Mark's. “Sorry, this is Mark. Mark, Bryan.”

“Hi.” Mark reached out a hand, got an enthusiastic handshake. “I um... I listen to your show.”  
  
“You don't have to.” Bryan laughed. “You the boyfriend? Is he the boyfriend?” He poked Nicky. “He's cute. When did that happen?”

“Sod off.” Nicky flushed a bit, but Mark's hand was squeezed tighter. “I like this one. You'll scare him away.”

“He's fine. I have to go, though. The missus has dinner on. Hey, come out soon, alright? I haven't seen you in ages. Though I guess you've been busy...” He winked at Mark. “Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Mark managed, feeling a bit overwhelmed. The guy was just as manic as he was on the radio, fluttering all over the place and talking a mile a minute. Bryan was already waving goodbye, dashing across the carpeted floor of the lobby and out the automatic doors. Nicky was laughing, shaking his head.

“Dickhead.”

“I didn't know you knew famous people.” Mark nudged him.

“I don't.” They were outside themselves a moment later, and Mark looked around to get his bearings before heading back towards the car. “I actually knew him before he got on the radio. My dad runs a karaoke gig on weekends at our local, and Bryan used to come a bit. We weren't like close or anything, but he was always a good laugh.” He looked up at Mark. “I should have said I know lots of famous people, shouldn't I? Sound impressive?”

“I'm very impressed.” Mark consoled. “Who else do you know?”

“I met Justin Timberlake once.” Nicky shrugged. “He was walking down a corridor and I was walking in the other direction, but he had a minder with him and I said 'hey' and he sort of nodded at me.”

“Did he say anything?”

“He didn't have to. It was all in the eyes. We were best friends already.”

“Catch up all the time?”

“We don't need to. We both know how we feel. Words would ruin it.”

“I'm jealous.”

“I wouldn't be.” They were almost at the car now. Mark was fumbling for his keys. “You're worth at least three, three and a half Justin Timberlakes.” Mark snorted, watching his headlights flash when he pressed the button to unlock the doors.

“And I'm the boyfriend, apparently.” He rolled his eyes. “I'd expect at least four and a quarter.”

“You get up to six and four ninths when you're naked.” Nicky promised him. “It's a sliding scale. There are three Justin Timberlakes in a Johnny Depp, and two Johnny Depps in a George Clooney.”

“You've really thought about this.”

“My job is really boring.” Nicky sighed, pulling open the door and sliding into the passenger seat. “I've got the insurance lads coming this evening to check the car. Hopefully have me back on the road soon.”

“Give me a call if you need a lift in the morning.” Mark offered. He climbed in too, started up the car. “I'll come early and get you.”

“You don't have to...”

“I'll come early and get you.” Mark interrupted, getting a smile back that made him want to rethink this whole 'going home and being adult' bullshit. “Then I have an excuse to come over tomorrow night.”

“Is it really wrong that I hope my car's on fire when I get home?” Nicky reached across the space between them, his hand finding Mark's shoulder. It was a comforting touch, and stayed there a long time, while Mark pulled out of the lot and onto the motorway, headed back to Nicky's.

 

*

 

Nicky's bed felt big and empty without Mark in it. He'd been dropped off just in time to meet the lads from the breakdown service. It hadn't been much, just needed a bit of a quick service and a replacement part. Had all been fixed in about ten minutes. He was sort of disappointed, was kind of hoping he'd get an extra day out of it.

He rolled over, planted his face in the pillow. Thought about calling, but didn't want to be overbearing, not when Mark had been so certain about getting things done at home. He didn't want to push, didn't want to scare the lad away when things were getting good.

God, things were good.

He'd been a bit worried when Bryan had dropped the 'boyfriend' line, but Mark hadn't seemed perturbed by it, though he'd been the one to suggest they be exclusive after all, so Nicky supposed they were sort of headed that way anyway. He really hoped so. He wanted to spend every minute with Mark, like they had over the weekend, all cuddled up and randomly making out. Getting to see that gorgeous horsey grin whenever he said something Mark found funny, feeling arms wrap around him when they slept. Hear him say random, stupid things in French and make sarcastic comments about bad television commercials.

He knew he should probably be saying something at this point, maybe mention the fact that this had all started as something entirely different. Get it in before things got too serious, before Mark found out from Kian or Shane or someone. But he didn't want to risk it. Mark wouldn't thank him for it. Nicky felt awful for being the kind of person who would have even entertained a bet like that in the first place, but now that he was he didn't know how to fix it. Telling Mark could ruin everything, but not telling him could make it worse.

Maybe he needed to talk to Shane and Kian about it, get them to call the thing off so he could sort this out on his own terms. He didn't know how to do that, though, how to explain that he was suddenly enamoured of this man they'd picked out for the worst possible reasons. How to explain to people that shagged around that he didn't want anyone but this very sweet, very sexy young man that had meant less to them than a grainy photo and a crude list that didn't even begin to sum up who he was.

He was about to do that, was going to call, when his phone rang. It wasn't too late, but was getting on in the night enough that he didn't expect any calls. He picked it up, glanced at the caller I.D.

“Kian.”

“Hey Nicky. How are you?”

“I'm well.” Nicky nodded, stretching slightly on the bed. He knew he should get some sleep, but it hadn't worked so far so at least this was a distraction. “What's up?”

“I erm...” There was a pause, and then the sound of footsteps. Kian's voice got a little quieter. “Sorry. Can I potentially ask you a favour?”

“Potentially yes.” Nicky nodded, intrigued. “What can I potentially do for you?”

“I need...” Kian sighed. “Fuck. Look, I've got an issue and I might need to borrow your car this weekend if you can spare it?” Nicky shrugged. This did happen from time to time. Neither Kian nor Shane owned their own cars, though they both had licenses, had never seen the point when they lived so close to the city.

“Yeah, how long? What for?”

“A couple of days, maybe.” There was another pause, and Kian was almost whispering now. “Sorry, I don't want Shane to hear me.”  
  
“Why not?”

“He's um... his...” Kian exhaled. “Look, his mam's passed away.”

“Oh Jesus, I'm sorry.” Nicky gasped. “Shit, yeah. Did you need to get to the funeral, or?”

“Maybe. He says he doesn't want to go. You know they didn't get on, but... I just kind of want the back-up, in case he decides to go after all. I have a feeling he'll change his mind last minute, and I don't want to be fucking around trying to get on the train and that.”

“Definitely.” Nicky agreed. “When is it?”

“Saturday. We can head up in the morning. It's not until eleven, so we'll have plenty of time. We'll either come back that night, or Sunday morning if we crash at me mam and dad's. I'm not sure. Is it okay? Really? I don't want to put you out.”

“Course.” Nicky nodded. He had no plans, not unless you counted Mark, though if it was anything like the weekend just gone they wouldn't need to leave the house at all. “Let me know and I'll sort you out, no problems.”

“Thanks a lot. Sorry about the short notice. Maybe he'll stick to his guns, but I get the feeling he'll cave. Even if it's just to make a bit of peace with himself. Closure and that, you know.” Nicky made an agreeable sound in reply, not sure what else to say.

“Is he okay?”

“Says he is. I don't know.” There was a deep, melancholy sigh. “Look, I have to go before he gets suspicious. If he thinks I'm talking behind his back about it he'll get all stubborn and upset. Don't mention I called you, yeah?”

“Of course. Anything I can do...”

“No, it's fine.” Kian muttered. “I'll see you, okay? Goodnight, Nicky. And thanks.”

Nicky was about to say something else, but the phone was already dead, the dial tone kicking in. He sank into the mattress, tossed the phone onto the dresser beside him and closed his eyes.

He missed Mark.

 

*

 

Shane was coming out of the shower, his towel wrapped around his shoulders. He'd felt filthy after work, though he knew he sat behind a desk all day and wasn't exactly rolling around in the mud. He'd felt filthy all week, honestly, just tired and restless and not good, like the only place worth being was under a hot shower or curled up in a warm bed with Kian around him.

He knew, objectively, that he was probably supposed to be grieving or something. Sitting in a corner, rocking back and forth and crying hysterically, but instead he just sort of felt numb, like the rest of him hadn't made the decision on how to feel yet and his mind was waiting for the vote to come in. He didn't know how he was supposed to feel. His mam, the person who had given birth to him, raised him, was gone. Just like that. And he hadn't made things right or said goodbye.

The person who had told him she hadn't raised him this way, that he was a black stain on the family, that he'd burn in hell for all eternity because of his disgusting choices, was gone. And he hadn't wanted to make things right or say goodbye.

Because fuck her. Honestly. And fuck his father too, shaking his head and walking out of the room, very determinedly 'not getting involved' even though if there was one time he needed to be involved, this was it. Giving Shane a hug before he walked out forever, wishing him luck, and then going back inside to sit with someone who had turned their son out on the basis of being in love. In love with someone who was kind and supportive, who had opened his arms and his family and had put aside everything be involved, without it ever being a hardship or a sacrifice.

He didn't even talk to his brothers and sisters any more, though he got the occasional text from one or two, checking how he was and keeping him up to date on what was going on. He didn't want to know. Didn't want to get a group email from his sister about how she was pregnant, knowing he'd probably never see the baby anyway. Didn't want a picture of the new horse Shane would never get to ride, or an announcement that his brother was getting married, knowing the whole family would be there, celebrating together, probably taking big group shots of the lot of them, all standing together as a complete, unbroken unit, the youngest one lopped off like a diseased branch, the scar covered over and forgotten.

He wasn't welcome. Though she wasn't there to not welcome him. He wanted to go anyway, and spit into the grave before they covered the coffin in dirt. He hoped there wasn't anything after, that she'd just sit there and rot from the inside out, just like she'd been doing since before he was born.

He hoped she'd forgiven him, just a little bit, even for a moment. That she'd wanted to see him and make amends. He hoped it had really hurt when he said no.

He really missed his mam.

Kian was just hanging up the phone. Shane forced a smile, got a gentle kiss when Kian stood up and hugged him, his hands warm on Shane's damp skin.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Just a telemarketer. Told them to fuck off. It's too late at night to want car insurance.”

“We don't even have a car.”

“Exactly. Tossers.” He pulled back, his fingers trailing gently down Shane's cheek. “Let's have a night in, okay? Watch some TV, order in?”

“You're getting domestic.” Shane teased, though that sounded completely lovely. “Sounds good. But only if I can distract you.”

“You always distract me.” Kian laughed. It was that laugh that had gotten Shane the first time, when they'd been about fourteen and mucking around in the school musicals and he'd said something stupid and gotten this massive, broad, open grin that was nothing but honest, this chuckle that said you were sharing a secret. “But I get to distract you back.”

“How will you do that?” Shane goaded, shivering a little when fingers ran up his spine, tickling. “Good start.”

“It is.” Kian agreed, leaning their foreheads together. “No rush, though. I've got the rest of my life for you.”

“That's a big commitment.”

“Nah, it's easy. I just wake up, and there you are.” Shane wanted to burst into tears, all of a sudden. A thumb ran over his bottom lip and he looked down, trying to hide the fact that his eyes were blurring and the lump in his throat was choking him up. “You okay?”

“I'm okay.” He swallowed to stop his emotions affecting his voice. “I'm really angry, and really tired, and I'm so glad you're here.”

“Shay...” Strong arms pulled him in, cradled him. “I'm always here. Whatever you need.”

“I know.” Shane nodded. “Thanks.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

The days felt like they were getting longer. Nicky worked through them, did his job. Did his job well, urged on by this warm little glow in his heart that made him want to be the best he could. Made other people not seem so irritating, not when he was sending texts to Mark between calls, getting replies when Mark was on his lunch break.

He didn't get to see Mark again until Wednesday. That was life, he supposed, always getting in the way, and they couldn't spend all their time in each other's pockets.

He wanted to spend all his time in Mark's pocket.

He'd gone over, hung out on Mark's couch while he'd gone through essays with a red pen, crossing out spelling mistakes and making notes, laughing slightly when he came across something that was obviously funny. They were dull essays – Nicky peeked at a few while he was waiting for Mark to read others – something about agriculture and social structure in the middle ages, but Mark was fascinating. Watching his eyes move in concentration while he tapped the end of the pen on his bottom lip. Eventually he was finished, set the stack of papers aside, and then apologised for being boring.

And Nicky had kissed him, run a hand up his thigh, and shown him how not boring he was.

Sex with Mark was... well, he didn't want to go getting ahead of himself, but it was fantastic. He didn't feel like he was teaching, like it was a burden, just felt like they were learning each other. Like Mark was taking notes, watching when Nicky would gasp a little louder, arch a little higher, and would give him a small, proud smile, like he couldn't believe he was making Nicky react like that. Then he'd do it again, sinking his tongue into Nicky's navel, nibbling around his ear, thumbing over a nipple and kissing him deep.

And Nicky got to take what he already knew and adjust it, find the spots that would make Mark groan suddenly out loud, like Nicky had pushed a button. That would make him bite his lip, make his breath speed up. Bring him slowly to the precipice and hold him there, Mark's control much better now they'd gotten the early excitement out of the way. And then at the end Mark would whimper, gasp his name, cry out sometimes, or make a low growling noise in his throat, his eyes closed, head tipped back, and Nicky would pull him over the edge, holding him all the way down.

By the time it was Thursday night he couldn't wait to leave, knew Mark would be out by four, would already be home, probably. Wanted to go over and sink into him again, drown himself a little bit in full lips and cheeky touches. He was practically speeding by the time he made it, ran up the stairs, and knocked. The door was opened a moment later, Mark letting out a surprised laugh when he was leapt on, his feet stumbling until Nicky could back him against a wall and kiss him hard.

“Nicky. Jesus.” Mark laughed when Nicky finally came up for air. “I'm fine, thanks. Hi, how are you? How was your day?”

“Missed you.” It seemed to answer both questions. Mark smirked, extricating himself gently, though his hand fell into Nicky's and squeezed.

“I missed you too.” A kiss dropped to his nose. “I'm almost done, okay? Do you want to pick a movie or something?”

Nicky wanted to drag Mark into the bedroom and sit on his face, but that might be a bit advanced this early on. Though if he was as quick with that as he had been with blowjobs, Nicky thought he might have a bit of a prodigy on his hands.

“Yeah. DVDs?”

“Over there.” Mark pointed towards a small bookcase in the corner, a random assortment of DVDs mixed in with books and a few knick knacks. Nicky went over to look, crouching down for a better view. He picked up a snowglobe being used as a makeshift bookend, turning it over and watching white flakes flutter over a tiny Eiffel Tower.

“You been to Paris?”

“Erm... once, for a school trip when I was about sixteen.” Mark glanced over, smiling when he saw what Nicky was doing. “That was actually from my dad, though, when I got my first teaching job.”

“Oh.” Nicky watched the snow settle, then put it back on the shelf. “What's this?” He picked up a little toy monkey. It was just a cheap plastic one, like the kind you got in bargain shops, mixed in with a two euro bag of assorted animals that were probably a ready-made choking hazard.

“Dunno. Found it in the park one day, thought it was cute. Some kid must've left it.”

Nicky looked at the monkey. It was badly painted, sort of lopsided. “Does he have a name?”

“Should he?” Mark laughed. “I thought you were looking for a DVD?”

“I am. I'm just...” Nicky studied it. “He should have a name.”

“Do all your random plastic monkeys have names? He's not worth anything, anyway. I just found him.”

“Yeah, but he's yours now, so he's important.” Nicky glanced over, getting a bemused smile. “Poor little monkey, all alone in the park, and then someone takes him home and doesn't even care enough to name him.”

“You're really odd.” Mark turned back to his work. He was going through a textbook, making notes. “Name him, then, if you like. He can be our monkey, and then you can come visit him while I'm working.”

“Fine, if you're not gonna step up and be a good parent.” Nicky teased. “Erm... Bernard.”

“Bernard?” Mark laughed. “Why?”

“It's my middle name. Keeping it in the family.”

“Your middle name is Bernard?”

“One of them, yeah. Nicholas Bernard James Adam Byrne.”

“Bernard it is.” Mark nodded. “And I'm Markus Michael Patrick Feehily.”

“Markus?” Nicky giggled, replacing the monkey on the shelf. “Anyone actually call you that?”

“Only my mam when she's annoyed.” Mark laughed. “Or when I'm doing my passport application or something.” He looked over. “I'll be five minutes, I promise.”

“Take your time. I'll just snoop through your stuff.” Nicky turned back towards the shelves, ran his finger along the row of DVDs. There was a green folder on the end, squashed next to a copy of The Matrix, and when he tugged on it he realised it was a photo album. He opened it, found a photo straight away of a chubby toddler in overalls and a red shirt with a terrible bowl cut. “Oh, score!”

“What?”

“Found your baby photos!” Nicky held it up, sinking down cross-legged on the carpet. He turned a page, got another one of an awkward looking kid, all eyes and lips, maybe eight years old. “You keep working, I've got my entertainment for the night.”

“Fuck off.” Mark laughed out loud, and Nicky looked up, loving the way that embarrassed chuckle tripped off his lips. “I want to say in advance that the nineties were a different time and I can't be blamed for any haircuts that might have resulted.”

“And I reserve the right to make fun of you.” Nicky retorted. “Please tell me there's a mullet.”

“No, definitely not a mullet.” Mark snorted. He looked at the papers in front of him, quickly made a couple of notes, and then closed the textbook, putting it aside. “Come here, if that's what you're going to be doing. I can at least defend myself, then. Know your enemy.”

“Napoleon?”

“Er... Sun Tzu, more or less. Though it's a bit of a paraphrase. I think it goes something a bit more like 'if you know your enemy and know yourself, you needn't fear the result of a hundred battles'. Admittedly Chinese warfare was never my strong suit.” He rested his chin in his hand and Nicky watched him, watched his eyebrows knit while he searched through his own head for the information. “Then there's a bit about how if you only know yourself you'll lose half the time, and if you don't know yourself or your enemy you'll never win.”

“You might be the coolest person I've ever met.”

“Because I remember a bit of The Art Of War?” Mark laughed. “Every college poser has just about memorised it so they can seem cool and philosophical in front of girls and first years. It's this generation's 'Catcher in the Rye', though I suppose it's not bad for a book that's over two thousand years old. He'd be swimming in royalties if he wasn't dead.”

Nicky smirked, feeling a bit out of his depth. He knew Mark was smart, knew he was a teacher, but Mark  _ knew _ things. He didn't know anything except every bloody football game ever played. He stood up, the photo album still in one hand, and went over to slump onto the couch, tucking himself in against Mark's side and feeling a hand drape over his chest. He opened it again, beginning to turn pages.

“Who's this?”

“That's my cousins.” Mark pointed at a group shot, naming people quickly. “I think I was about twelve. That'd be when we lived in Wicklow, so yeah, maybe twelve or thirteen.”

“Did you like living there?”

“It was okay. I think I've only ever loved living in Sligo. I know that's probably just nostalgia, but even when I go back over there it feels like home.”

“You don't like Dublin?”

“It's fine. It's been a bit boring up until now.” Nicky giggled when he was tickled suddenly, fingers digging playfully into his sides. “It's definitely improving, though.”

“Definitely.” Nicky agreed. He turned a page, looked at a few family shots. Mark's family looked nice, hugging him and turning open, homey smiles to the camera. He flicked a few more, watched Mark grow up slowly as the pages went by. “Oh, found the hair.” He laughed. “That's tragic!”

“It was '97. Everyone was doing it.” Mark laughed, putting his hand over the long floppy hair. He looked like he'd escaped from a fat camp for boybands. “I can't even look at it with a straight face. God, I was awful.”

“Nah, just a late bloomer.” Nicky looked up, taking in the shorter hair, the slight stubble on a defined jaw. Not chubby and awkward any more, just solid and gorgeous. “You were saving up all the sexy until later.”

“Was I?” He went a little pink, looked away. “Dunno about that.”

Nicky closed the album and leaned over to place it on the coffee table. Then he sat up, swinging his knee over to straddle Mark's lap.

“Want me to show you?”

 

*

 

Sex with Nicky was his new favourite thing. He'd been a bit mortified when Nicky had found the photo album, though he'd tried not to mention it and look totally awkward. It had been fine, though, had gotten even better when Nicky had climbed on top of him and kissed him slowly, softly, his tongue edging across Mark's lip to the beat of heavy, heady breaths. Nicky had moaned, then, parted his lips, and then it was all just snogging and groping, his hands pushing down the back of Nicky's jeans and feeling warm, firm flesh under his hands.

“Want you.” Nicky had gasped. “Let me have you.” And Mark had only been able to say yes, god, of course, anything you want, and they'd ended up in the bedroom, Nicky's legs around his waist, arching up into him and kissing him hard, their shirts long forgotten.

He was getting better, he thought, though it wasn't hard to tell with the reactions he was getting, even better when he sank down and took Nicky in, heard a broken sob of lust, felt fingers tangle in his hair. He took him as deep as he could, feeling the gag get less now that he was figuring out the best way to breathe. Rolled Nicky's balls between his fingers, knowing how much he'd enjoyed it when it had been done to him, his knuckle pressing tentatively behind. He hadn't thought of that before, but Nicky had done it on Sunday morning and it had been a little bit fantastic, like pressure right where he didn't know he wanted it. He heard Nicky cry out, his legs trembling slightly by Mark's head.

“Oh fuck...” He whimpered. “Oh fuck, I can't...” He dragged in a shuddering breath. “Right there, babe. Fuck, right there...” He looked up to see Nicky's head tipped back, his chest heaving. “Christ...” He reached down, grabbed Mark's free hand off his belly, and before Mark knew it fingers were being sucked in, bitten down on. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to will off his own release, the sight and feel way too much. It was getting easier to hold it now, where before he'd been all nervous and overexcited. Now it was the last thing on his mind, especially when he wanted to drag it out, be in this with Nicky as long as possible, moving together and feeling him.

His fingers were let go when Nicky pulled away to let out a soft gasp, then he was looking down, meeting Mark's eyes.

“Finger me.” He breathed. Mark groaned, reaching down to squeeze himself, pull himself back. “Need you...” He trailed off, arching up just enough to make Mark pull away a bit, licking when he settled and bobbing down lower, his teeth carefully out of the way.

He pressed a finger lower, felt it brush over wrinkled flesh that contracted under him, heard Nicky whimper. Pressed, heard it again, louder.

“No... no, wet one.” Nicky gasped.

Oh. Mark switched hands, using the one he'd just pulled from Nicky's mouth. Pressed a damp finger against him and then... oh, he was in, and Nicky was tight and hot and so fucking good around him, grasping and clenching. He heard a cry and pulled out slowly before twisting it back in, not sure how to do this, just knowing that it was tight and good, that Nicky was pushing back onto it, making hoarse, desperate noises.

“I'm coming.” He panted. “Oh fuck, Marky...” Mark pulled off quickly, his free hand taking up the job while Nicky let out a guttural shout and pulsed over him, warm and slick, his foot jolting out and slamming down hard on the bed next to Mark's shoulder, toes curling up. Mark watched, overwhelmed by the sight of this gorgeous man falling apart in his hands.

Nicky collapsed into the bed afterwards, gasping. Mark pulled the finger out slowly, wiped it off on the sheets even though it seemed clean, then slid up, gathering shaking limbs and a heaving chest into his arms, a sweaty forehead resting in his shoulder.

“Oh.” Nicky breathed. “Oh wow.”

“Okay?” Mark asked. Nicky nodded, giggling slightly.

“Yep. Pretty good.” He buried his face in Mark's chest. “Oof.”

“Oof?”

“Oof.” Nicky echoed. “That was lovely.” Mark felt himself flush a little at the idea. This time last week he'd had no idea what he was doing, and now he was getting 'wow'. It was a bit nice. “You ever had a finger in your arse?” He asked finally, once his breathing had settled.

“Erm... no.” Mark admitted. “You like it?”

“Very much.” Nicky looked up. “You ever fingered anyone before?” Mark shook his head. “What about when you're about to top? I mean, you stretch them, or do you just watch?”

“Ehm...” Mark didn't rightly know how to answer that. “I just sort of go with it.” Nicky looked confused then, and he had no idea what to say. “What erm... what do you like to do?”

“Well, need lots of lube, obviously. I know some people can get by on the spit slick, but I generally need about twenty minutes of prep time, minimum. Like, you can't just go shoving it in. That's a great way to end up in the hospital with a fissure or something, and you really don't want to be calling in sick to work because you've fucked a rip in your arsehole.” He laughed slightly, looking down. Mark looked away, feeling his cheeks heat. He had a feeling he'd been wrong about something, somewhere, wasn't sure whether to mention it or admit that he was a bit clueless. A hand slid down between them, caressing the erection he was still sporting. Mark flinched as a the pressure increased, closing his eyes against the sensation. “Sexy boy.” Nicky muttered. “Wanna touch you.”

“You are touching me.” He pointed out, gasped when fingers pushed past his waistband.

“Now I am.” Nicky murmured, his fingers making patterns. “Want me to finger you? You'll love it. I'll make you come so hard you'll pass out.”

“Jesus.” Mark bit his lip. He really wasn't sure. It seemed a bit dirty and overly intimate, like he probably should have showered before this. “I don't know. I'm um...” He bit his lip. “I went to the loo before.”

“Good, you'll be all empty.” Nicky snorted, licking up his jaw. “It's fine. It won't be the first time I've gotten shit on my finger. I'm not worried.” Mark giggled, not sure what to say to that. Nicky was so fucking _forward_ , seemed totally unaffected by the details and messiness of anything they did. Had sensed that from the first when Nicky had smirked at the cum on his face. “I don't have to.” He nibbled at Mark's ear. “Say no, if you want. But I want to. You're going to be so fucking beautiful when I make you come.”

“Jesus...” Mark breathed, pushing into the grip that slid up his shaft, thumbing over the head. “I... yeah, okay.” He knew it was probably a bad idea, didn't care, not with Nicky looking at him hungrily, like he was about to be eaten up. “Yeah.”

“You can tell me to stop.” Nicky promised. “If you don't like it, tell me. It's not a big deal.” He pecked Mark's lips. “I just want to make you feel good.”

“You do...” Mark laughed when he was rolled onto his back with a growl, hands drifting over his chest, tugging at the hair and making him laugh. Nicky was grinning, was yanking at his belt with a joyous enthusiasm. “Bit impatient?”

“You said that was how you'd describe me, remember?” Nicky teased. “I have to live up to expectations.”

Mark chuckled, remembering watching Titanic only a week before, when they hadn't been nearly so intimate.

“Can I change it?”

“Nope, too late. You can come up with more words, though.”

“Okay, erm...” He lifted his hips when Nicky tugged his jeans down, dragging them off his legs. “Thoughtful.”  
  
Nicky looked up from where he was beginning to nibble at Mark's toes. “Funny.”

“Um...” Nicky was licking up the sole of his foot, and Mark tried not to giggle or kick him in the face. Then there were teeth scraping his ankle, gnawing playfully. “Cocky.”

“I'm not cocky, I'm confident.” Nicky shot back.

“And you're not half cocky about it.” Mark retorted. Got a grin before Nicky started on the other foot, sucking on his big toe. “What are you doing?”

“Working my way up.” Nicky explained, muffled when he tried to fit another two toes in his mouth. “Umm...” His voice vibrated against Mark's foot. “Emtrstin.”

“What?”

Nicky let go with a pop, licking his lips. “Interesting.”

“Oh.” Mark laughed, feeling teeth close on his heel, shake it slightly like a dog. “Fun.”

“Smart.”

“Clever.” Kisses were starting to move up his calf now, then sliding back down his shin. Nicky went to work on the other leg, looking up.

“Sensible.”

“I am not, I'm dating you.” Mark dislodged the knee Nicky was working on, bent his leg up so he could touch Nicky's face with his foot, tracing an eyebrow with his toes. “That's a totally stupid thing to do.”

“It really is.” Nicky agreed. “But guess what?”

“What?” Mark ran a foot down his chest, giggling when Nicky grabbed it and shoved it out of the way, lunged forward to lean over him, Mark's legs automatically grasping at his waist.

“Smartest thing I ever did.”

Mark felt a glow rush up him, felt it press out of his chest until he couldn't help but reach up, tug Nicky down into a kiss. It was returned with enthusiasm, their mouths sliding together until Mark was groaning, pushing up into the hand that slid down his chest.

“I want you again.” Nicky whispered. “You're so beautiful.”

“You are.” He could feel Nicky against him, hard. Grabbed a handful of his arse and dragged them together, started to rock slowly. “You feel so good.”

“Delicious.” Nicky breathed against him. Mark kissed him again, fingers clenching in silken blonde hair.

“Sexy.” He gasped back, burying his face in Nicky's shoulder as he felt his orgasm close in. “I'm so close.”

“Sweet.” Nicky moaned against him.

“Modest.” Mark laughed. He heard a chuckle in return, felt a hand push between them, holding them together. Start to move, dragging him with it. “Nicky...” He warned, feeling it sweep over him. “Oh fuck... that's...” He closed his eyes, focusing on the pressure, the warmth. “I...”

“Mine.” Nicky murmured.

Mark cried out, felt himself fall. And a moment later, Nicky fell with him.

 

*

 

Afterwards they cuddled up on the couch and watched TV. They hadn't ended up picking a DVD in the end, had just flicked through channels until Nicky found a football game. Mark wasn't much for football, but he understood the rules enough from playing at school to get by on and he was taking great pleasure in listening to Nicky explain things to him, point out players he did and didn't like, spinning backstory about them as though it was all a great soap opera and sitting up suddenly every now and then to yell at the referee.

“You know they can't hear you, right?” Mark asked, when Nicky had just finished going on a rather impassioned rant at the TV about someone being a cunt.

“Course they can. I wouldn't be yelling at them, otherwise.” He kissed the top of Mark's head. “My input's important.”

“Honestly I don't see how they could play without you.”

“They can't, that's why I have to yell at them.” Nicky explained. Mark laughed, snuggling into his shoulder. The game finished after a bit, and Nicky grabbed the remote, starting to flick through channels again. Mark spotted something.

“Wait, go back.”

“What?” He did, and Mark laughed when he realised. “Oh, fucking hell. Titanic. I told you. See? It's stalking me!”

“It's stalking both of us now, I think.” Mark reasoned. “You've passed the curse onto me, like in that movie, The Ring. Except instead of a creepy girl in a well it's Kate Winslet's boobs.”

“Kate Winslet's boobs are terrifying.” Nicky agreed. “It's almost over, anyway.” He was right, they were back in the present now, old Rose standing at the railing. A few minutes later they were in the ballroom, young again, being applauded. “Why are those people clapping? Do they really give a shit if two teenagers are having a snog? Like, they've got their own families and stuff, and they're all dead. I'd be looking for my own missus and kids, not standing around watching rich people make out.”

“It's a dream.” Mark argued. “They're not really there or anything, it's just how she remembers him.”

“Do you think the lad who hit the propellor's there?” Nicky asked. “Like, his face half-smashed in? This scene is quite creepy, if you think about it. They're all ghosts. I feel like once the credits roll they all pull off their faces and they're drowned and black underneath.”

“Stop ruining Titanic!” Mark poked him. “Jesus, can't it just be a nice movie?”

“It was, the first three hundred times. Then I started noticing things. Are the other nine dogs there, do you think? Or would they be tied up outside, even though they're dead? Do dogs get seasick?”

“These are the things you think about?”

“Yep. Last chance to run away, if you're going to.”

“I'll manage.” Mark drawled. He looked up. Was about to say something, he didn't know what, when Nicky's phone rang. Nicky reached out, fumbled it off the table and lifted it to his ear.

“Hey Ki. No, I'm at Mark's. What's up?” He laughed slightly. “Yeah, things are going really well.” Mark turned over, snuggling into his chest. “Well, you've obviously underestimated me. Yeah.” Fingers ran through Mark's hair. “No, of course you can. Are you... this weekend?” He glanced down at Mark. “Do you want me to drive you? Then you can take care of Shane. No, no of course it's not. Definitely. What time?” Mark looked up, wondering what was going on. “Can I bring Mark?”

“What's happening?” Mark whispered, got a dismissive wave and a wink.

“No, but his family's there, so I thought... I'm not that fucking heartless, Kian, thank you very much. I'm allowed to have friends outside of you.” Fire blazed in his eyes for second and Mark bit his lip, hoping he hadn't gotten into the middle of something. “Yeah, okay, well, I'll pick you up at seven.” He paused, listened for a long moment. “I know, it's fine. Just... lay off, alright? It's fine. You're welcome.” He nodded. “Okay, see you then.” He hung up, tossed the phone on the table, then pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes for a moment, looking frustrated.

“Is everything okay?” Mark hedged. Nicky gave him a small smile, a genuine one, and he found himself smiling tentatively back.

“Yeah, I...” He ran fingers through Mark's hair, giving him a look. It was a slow look, and considering, and Mark felt his spine prickle underneath it. “Look, I've got to go away for the weekend. I'm sorry. Shane's mam's passed away and I said I'd drive them up to Sligo for the funeral.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded, not sure what to say. “I'm sorry.”

“I wouldn't be. She was a selfish, self-righteous bitch who spent more time worrying about what god and the neighbours would think than taking care of her own kids. Shane hasn't even spoken to her since he was eighteen.” Nicky's eyes flared with momentary anger. “Still, he's not exactly ecstatic, and neither of them have a car, so...” He looked down. “Do you want to come?”

“What, to the funeral?” Mark shrugged. “I don't really know Shane that well...”

“No, I mean to Sligo. I'm not going to the funeral, but I thought you might want to keep me company while we wait. You can show me your pond and that.”

“Lough Gill.” Mark corrected. “Erm... dunno.” He looked up. “My parents live there.” Nicky shrugged. “They don't know I'm gay.”

“That's okay. I'm your very attractive male friend.”

“Is that what you are?” Mark teased. Nicky ducked his head, planted a kiss on his nose.

“Am I?” He murmured back. Mark shivered, lifting his face for a kiss. “I think I could be the lad who wants to spend all his time around you and watch you mark papers and listen to you get upset when I ruin Titanic.” Mark smiled, feeling himself blush. “I think you're amazing.”

“I um... ditto.” Mark nodded. “I... really like you.”

“I really like you too.” Nicky pulled back a little, his face uncertain. “Would you want to be my boyfriend, maybe?”

Mark nodded, feeling suddenly like he was about to shoot through the ceiling like a firework, explode into thousands of coloured sparks.

“Yes please.” He said finally. Nicky laughed, pulled him in for a kiss.

“Cool.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

The drive was quiet. Shane slept against Kian's side for quite a lot of it, though honestly Nicky couldn't tell if he was actually asleep or just had his eyes closed to drift out of reality a bit. He'd looked okay when they'd picked him up, but his face was carefully blank behind the deep rings under his eyes, and Kian had been fussing a lot, making sure he had everything before they left, asking where he wanted to sit, getting one-word answers and not leaving his side.

It was almost enough to make Nicky want to forgive him for what he'd said the other night when they'd been on the phone. He got it, he did, but it made him want to discuss the whole thing with Kian a little less. He wanted to put his cards on the table, tell Kian that he was maybe in this deeper than he'd meant at the beginning, that the last thing he could do now was make Mark into some sort of game. But then he'd asked if he could bring Mark, and what Kian had said next had made Nicky want to slap him.

“What, so you'll bring your fucktoy to Shane's mam's funeral just to win a bet? Great priorities.”

Kian didn't know. He had to remind himself of that. Had to remember that Kian only knew Mark as that guy he'd had bad sex with, that empty picture on a piece of paper. He didn't know the way Mark was, how he was sweet and kind, how he was secretly really funny, how he was cheeky and clever, how he was Nicky's. But he couldn't say that, not with Mark laying against his chest, all warm and post-coital. And then there was really no time to say it. He wasn't sure he wanted to, didn't want the conversation that would remind him of how this started. Wasn't sure Kian could understand just wanting one person. And yeah, he was a little angry.

But this was for Shane. Shane, who was tucked up under Kian's arm in the backseat, eyes pinched shut.

Mark was sat in the shotgun seat, his chin propped on his hand while he stared out the window. They still had a half hour or so to go, and he'd been very quiet. Seemed to be thinking, had looked surprised a couple of times when Nicky had spoken to him. Nicky let him be, turning on the radio to fill in the silence.

 

*

 

Every sign seemed a countdown to home, Mark thought as he looked out the window. Every sheep, every cottage, every landmark. That tree meant forty minutes from home. That rock wall meant thirty-five minutes. It was like a clock in the scenery, slowly ticking down to the beat of Nicky breathing next to him.

He was going home.

It wasn't a new thing. He did it every few months, just to visit. Popped up on weekends sometimes when he was free, for peoples' birthdays and for events and things. Sank back in to feeling safe and home and content, familiar faces and sounds and places. His mam's pancakes, tramping through the woods with his dad, playing football with his brothers.

He knew it was probably silly. He was a grown man, hadn't even lived there for half his life, but it wasn't nostalgia. It was comfort. It was living there when things were easy, when he didn't have to worry about being different because he wasn't. And then they'd moved. He'd gone to high school. Had been expected to feel things for girls, to look at them with some sort of appreciation. Sligo memories weren't confusing or painful or awkward, they were just carefree and happy, his family around him, not judging, nothing worth judging over. It was uncomplicated. Things hadn't been that way since.

But in a funny way, things were less complicated now. The uncertainty, the fear and loneliness... it was all gone. There were still worries. Work, keeping his sexuality a secret enough that he not have to worry about his job, paying the rent, keeping his car filled with gas... but they were all peripheral. Tiny things that he'd work through, that would all be okay in the end. He wasn't uncertain about this, not any more.

He turned to look at Nicky, got a smile, a wink.

“Hey.” He said softly. Mark nodded back. “You okay? You're very quiet.”  
  
“I'm okay. Early morning.” It had been. He'd gone to work on Friday, gone home to sort some things out, then gone over to sleep at Nicky's so they could get on the road first thing. And they had actually slept this time, after a bit of a grope. The shagging was good, of course, but it was nice not feeling like it was a rush. Like they'd get to it when they did, and otherwise they could just be in each others company. Because Nicky was his boyfriend.

He wasn't sure if anything had been said to Shane or Kian, didn't want to pick at it if he didn't have to. Shane was obviously heartbroken, and it wasn't the time to be shoving his happiness in their faces, but god, he was so happy he couldn't stand it. He hadn't said much to the other boys in any case. They'd been snuggled up in the backseat most of the drive, Shane's head on Kian's shoulder and eyes closed. Kian had nodded at him on the way into the car, but that had been about it.

They stopped for a quick breakfast, just the McDonalds drivethru. Mark picked at a couple of hashbrowns, sat in the parking lot to give Nicky time to wolf down a sausage and egg before they got back on the road. Shane woke up, went inside to pee, and Kian went with him, holding hands as they crossed into the big red and yellow building.

“When we get to Sligo...” He'd been thinking about this a lot, had decided to say it out loud, lest he chicken out. Nicky turned to look at him, wiping sauce off his chin. “Do you want to meet my family?”

“Okay.” Nicky shrugged. “Who am I? Work friend?”

“No, erm...” Mark took a deep breath. Okay. Yep. This was happening. “Boyfriend?”

“Oh. Oh!” Nicky laughed, taking another bite of his McMuffin. “You sure?”

“No, not really.” Mark admitted. “Do you want to?”

“If you want me to. Definitely.” Nicky swallowed, put down his muffin. “I'm good with mothers. I'm charming.”

“You're very charming.” Mark agreed. “Okay. Cool.” He nodded to himself, feeling his heart race. “It'll be fine.”

“Course it will.” Nicky agreed. He wiped his hand on a napkin then reached over, put a hand on Mark's thigh. “It'll be fine, love.” Mark laughed, the endearment breaking through the panic a little bit. He leaned over a little more, dropped a kiss to Mark's cheek, rubbed his nose into his ear. “You've got me.”

 

*

 

“We have to go back.” Shane said suddenly. Kian turned to look at him, confused. “I forgot my black shoes.”

“You didn't. I packed them.” Kian promised, stepping closer. They were stood in the McDonalds bathrooms, washing their hands. He wiped his hands on jeans and reached out, stroking Shane's cheek. “You've got everything.”

“My tie. I can't...”

“It's packed.” Kian promised. He paused, ducking a little to look up at Shane, who was staring at the floor. “You don't have to do this.” He said. “If you want to go home, just say.”

“I...” Shane swallowed. “No. Nicky's come all this way, and...”

“Sod Nicky. He'll get over it.” Kian sighed, pulling Shane into a hug. He didn't know what was up with Nicky. He was being all defensive, and Kian wasn't all that pleased that Mark had come on this trip. He was a nice enough guy, but it seemed in poor taste when Nicky was just fucking him for a bet. Kian couldn't care less about the bet any more. It could fuck off. Shane was his priority, one hundred percent. “Tell me what you want to do.”

“I don't know.” Shane sighed. “I didn't go before, you know? I feel like I should go now.”  
  
“She won't notice either way.” Kian pointed out. Shane shrugged against him. “Why don't we just get there, get unpacked, and if you don't want to go we can just hang out with my family and head back home. We don't have to go.”

“I'm sorry, it's my fault you never get to see them...”

“It's definitely not.” Kian assured him, even though it probably was, a little bit. He didn't mind, though. They loved him and he saw them when he could, took the train up sometimes for a day when Shane had other things on. “But you know mam would love to see you. She's always asking after you. So if we get there and you really don't want to go, we can always get stuffed full of food and asked about our interesting lives in the big city.” Shane laughed a little at that. “Up to you.”

“Yeah, that sounds okay.” Shane said grudgingly. He looked up. “We could sneak back into the school and make out in the caretaker's shed. For old time's sake.”

“Or in the boys' toilets, or under the stands near the football field.”

“Or that supply cupboard in the changing rooms.”

Kian laughed at the memory. “I think if we did that now, we're probably get arrested. We're not exactly students.”

“It's Saturday. They'll never catch us.” He got a cheeky grin that made his heart flip, Shane's eyes clear for the first time all day.

“How about my old bedroom.” Kian suggested. “It's an office now, but we can put my old duvet on the desk and pretend.” He rubbed his nose against Shane. “Anything you like.”

“Okay.” Shane took a deep breath, nodded. “Let's keep going. I'll figure it out when I get there.” He wasn't talking about locations for shagging, but Kian didn't press the matter. They began to head out of the bathroom, into the sunlight, hands held tightly between them.

 

*

 

Nicky put his feet up on the dashboard. He'd been here for half an hour, waiting in a very picturesque country lane in front of a large white brick house. It looked like something out of a fairy tale, all eaves and windows, backing onto acres of fields. He could sort of see the lough from here, down the slope, see the thick thatch of trees and a hint of sparkling water disappearing through the hills.

He'd let Mark go in first. The poor love had thought it might be a bit much to drop the 'this is my boyfriend' bomb before the 'actually quite gay' bomb. Nicky got it. He was sort of a bit nervous about meeting Mark's parents anyway, especially not knowing how they felt about Mark's sexuality. Nicky was pretty sure how he felt about Mark's sexuality, though that wasn't exactly 'meeting the parents' conversation.

He was coming back down the driveway now, and Nicky sat up, winding down the window. It was hard to tell at this distance how it had gone, but by the time he reached the car there was a small smile visible on his mouth.

“Hey.” Nicky leaned over, looking out through the passenger side window. “How'd it go?”  
  
“Not bad.” He got a smile then, a proper one, and felt his heart lighten. “They want to meet you.”

“Who wouldn't?” Nicky teased, pushing open his own door and climbing out. He looked down, brushing his clothes into a bit of a tidier state. They were all wrinkled from the drive. “Do I look alright?”

“You look lovely.” Mark nodded. He ducked his head, caught a quick, chaste kiss. Nicky returned it, hugging him. “They were a bit surprised, but I think they sort of suspected. I'm not obvious, am I?”

“Obviously sexy.” Nicky winked, getting a blushing look. “But no, you're not. You're all big and manly.” Mark was going redder now. Nicky adored it. “You're just you. I like you.”

“I like you too.” Mark exhaled slowly. Nicky took his hand. Mark looked at it for a second, seeming unsure, but then tightened the grin. “Right. Yep. Okay.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded. “Parents names?”

“Oh! Marie and Oliver.” Mark explained.

“And the older brother's Barry, and the younger one's Colin.” He could see Mark was surprised he'd remembered, but Nicky couldn't help it. He'd been filing away every bit of information he could. “Markus.” He poked Mark lightly in the chest, got a poke back.

“Nicholas.”

“That's me.” Nicky laughed, letting himself be led up the driveway.

 

*

 

It had all gone surprisingly well. He'd gone in, gotten a surprised hug from his mother. He hadn't mentioned he was coming, hadn't really wanted the expectation in case he did bottle it, but she'd been happy to see him. His brothers were out with friends in town. His dad had been watching television, some football game, which just made Mark think of Nicky more. He couldn't remember that referee's name, but he was pretty sure it was the one Nicky thought was a cunt. Or one of them. He'd said some fairly descriptive things about a few of them.

So he'd sat down, said he wanted to have a chat, and then completely lost all his carefully prepared speech and just come out with it. His dad had laughed in surprise, put the television on mute, and asked him to repeat that. His mam had hugged him. And that was it. There were a few awkward questions of the 'are you sure, how long's that been going on, why didn't you say' variety, and then he was done, was mentioning that he was seeing someone, and that that someone was actually in the car out front, and his mother was scolding him for being so rude and leaving the poor boy outside.

So he'd gone to get Nicky.

Nicky was right. He was good with mothers. Was turning on the charm straight away, complimenting her on everything – the house, her hair, her excellent mothering skills (which he mentioned with a wink at Mark) – and then realised there was a game on and asked the score. And it was all that easy. His mother went to get some sandwiches happening, and Nicky told him to go help, because this referee had no bloody idea and his opinions were needed.

“He's a looker.” His mother said, raising an eyebrow. Mark felt himself blush as red as the tomato he was chopping. She was spreading butter on what looked like a whole loaf of bread. “He is!”

“I know. Bit out of my league.” Mark admitted. “Sorry about...”

“No, of course not.” She scolded him, then laughed. “You okay? You happy?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I am, actually. Really happy.” He breathed out slowly, his heart still racing from before. “I think I'm a bit in love with him.” He said softly.

“Does he know that?”

“No, bit soon I think.” He looked at her. “I don't know. We get along really well. He makes me laugh.”

“That's a good start.” She nodded at his hands. “You going to chop that or just hold it?”

“Sorry.” He began to slice again, realising his hands had stopped moving. “You're okay with it, though? I was a bit worried that...”  
  
“Course I am.” She shrugged. “Bit surprised, I'll admit, but you never did have much luck with girls, so I suppose it's not that shocking.” She nudged him lightly with her elbow. “Obviously a winner when it comes to lads, though. He's lovely.”

“I know.” Mark bit his lip. “Thanks mam. I love you, you know?”

“I love you too.” She reached out an arm, wrapped it around his shoulders. “Just be safe and happy, okay? It's all I wanted for you.” He nodded, feeling like he was about to burst into tears. “Now finish chopping that and go see if our boys want a drink.”

 

*

 

Kian looked over at Shane. They were sat up the back of the church, had snuck in when it was already under way, not wanting to make a fuss. They'd sat in Kian's dad's car a long time, watching everybody else go in. Kian had seen Shane's father, a few of his brothers and sisters. A few people he knew himself, parents of people from school. His own parents weren't here, had never really been friends with her in the first place, then even less after the whole blow up when Shane had come out.

He'd seen Shane consider it, had seen him reach for the door handle when his brother Liam had gone past, but then he hadn't. Had stopped and returned his hands to twist anxiously in his lap.

And now they were here, listening to a priest drone on about what a fine, upstanding person she was. How her family was her pride and joy. Shane sat, staring blankly, Kian's hand in his. How she was a generous, kind woman who did wonderful things for the community. How she had raised six fine children...

Kian barely registered what had been said before Shane was standing, yanking his hand free and storming out the back of the church. He followed, couldn't see him for a moment, then saw a crumpled shape poking out from behind the corner, head in hands. He sank down beside him, put an arm around his shoulders.

“We shouldn't have come.” Shane said, his voice choked by tears. “I shouldn't...” He shook his head. “Fuck this, let's get out of here.”

“Shay...” Kian stroked hair back from his forehead. “I'm really sorry.”

“No, I am. I don't know what I thought...” He covered his tear-stained cheeks. “Six kids? Really?” He shook his head. “Fuck her.” Kian hugged him, felt him shake, roll with wracking sobs. “Let's go home. I hope there is a hell, because she's sure as fuck going there.”

“Shane...?” Kian turned. There was a man standing there. He sort of looked a bit like Shane, but the Filan men had always tended towards hair-loss. Shane was always panicking that he was receding himself, which was cute, and a little bit true. Not that Kian would tell him that.

He wracked his mental databanks for a minute, trying to remember which one this was.

“Finbarr.” He said. Got a nod back. Shane didn't look up. “Can you go away, please?”

“I just wanted to say...” He swallowed. “Look, I'm sorry. You know what she was like, and...” Kian shook his head, turning himself toward Shane a little to protect him. “We should have said something, but then, you know, she got sick and we didn't want to...”

“Go back inside, Finbarr.” Shane said softly. Kian held him tighter. “Go sit down. You and her other five children, yeah?”

“I didn't know... she worked all that out with dad before she...” He shook his head. “Look, after the wake we're going to go for a pint. Come if you like. It'll just be the seven of us, you included, down the pub. Bit of a catch up, if you...” He shrugged. “I'm sorry. If you want to come, we'll be at Fureys around eight. Kian can come too, of course.” He gave Kian a pained look, like he didn't know quite what else to say. “Look, I better...” He walked away after that, glancing over his shoulder. Kian looked down at the crumpled form next to him.

“You okay?”

“No, I'm really fucking pissed off.” Shane whispered. “You want to go for a pint?”

“If you like.” Kian agreed. “I'm really sorry.” Shane shook him off, standing up.

“Yeah, me too.” He bit his lip. “Fuck it, let's go get trashed.”

 

*

 

“Are there spiders, do you think?” Nicky was looking dubiously at a large patch of deep, tangled bracken Mark had just finished tramping through. Mark laughed, reaching out a hand. Nicky was standing on the other side, sidling to the edge warily, as though it was about to suddenly explode bugs into his face. “Or snakes? Are there snakes?”

“There's no snakes.” Mark gestured at him. Nicky was not dressed for it at all, was wearing skin-tight jeans that weren't meant for anything but fashion, white sneakers and a striped blue shirt with the top two buttons undone. He looked impossibly sexy, but not at all suitable for a nature ramble. “You'll be fine.” Nicky squinted at him suspiciously. “If you get bitten by a snake I'll suck the poison out.”

“Funny.” Nicky hesitated for a second, swaying slightly like he was about to jump into a spinning skipping rope, then he leapt forward, bounding through and into Mark's arms with a yelp, the undergrowth crashing beneath his feet.

“You okay?” Mark asked. Nicky nodded. “Good, because now you've woken up all the bats.”

“Bats?!” Nicky ducked, arms already coming up to cover his head, and then realised Mark was joking. Mark started to laugh, kissing his cheek when he started to pout. “I hate the country.”

“How can you hate the country?” Mark tickled his chin lightly. “It's lovely.”

“It's only okay because you're here.” Nicky pouted, stomping on ahead. “My shoes are going to get wrecked.” He looked down at the mud they were squishing through as they got closer to the water.

“Why'd you wear white shoes, then?” Mark teased. “I told you to dress for outside.”

“This isn't outside, this is the bloody jungle.” Nicky grumbled. “I'm going to die out here.”

“If you do, it's only because you wouldn't stop complaining and I held you under to shut you up.” Mark retorted, wishing he could be more annoyed than he was. He reached out, putting his hands on a slim waist, tugged Nicky back. “C'mere.”

“What? Oh.” Nicky smirked at the kiss that was dropped on his shoulder. A hand reached behind, stroking through Mark's hair. “We could do this inside, you know.”

“We could.” Mark agreed. He breathed in deep, letting the smell of the trees and mud and water mingle with Nicky's scent. Kissed up his neck, felt a happy sigh. “But we've still got walking to do. Not that far.” He added, when he felt Nicky start to ask the question. “Stop complaining.”

“I like complaining.” Nicky pouted. “I complain, and then you do that.” He tilted his head a little to allow extra access. Mark smirked, flicking his tongue in behind a delicately shaped ear. Heard a soft moan. “Let's go shag in your old bedroom.”

“Let's not.” Mark argued. “It was fine and all, but I don't think I need my parents hearing me suck your dick.”

“I'll be quiet.”

“You're never quiet.” He bit down gently, stroking his hand down Nicky's front, heard a low moan. “See?” Nicky laughed, and Mark let go, pushing him forward slightly. “Now walk.” He fell into step when Nicky began to move again, taking the time to stare appreciatively at his arse. “Thanks for today. I think my dad likes you.”

“Only because he thinks the ref's a cunt as well.” Nicky pointed out. “You okay?” He asked, glancing back. “It went alright, didn't it?”

“It did, yeah.” Mark nodded. “I don't know what I was so panicked about, to be honest. Mam thinks you're a looker.”  
  
“Told you mothers love me.” Nicky ducked down under a low branch, waited for Mark to follow him through, holding it up slightly to give him room. “I'm charming.”

“You are.” Mark nodded. “You're good at that, though. Switching into character. Like when you're on the phone at work. If I didn't know, I'd think you were a whole other person. Like, I know you're lying, but it doesn't seem like it.”

“I'm not lying.” Nicky shook his head. “I just tell the truth that needs to be said. There's no need to say everything all the time, especially if I want to get my own way. Or impress your mam.”

“What truths haven't you told me?” Mark asked. This was a direction he hadn't seen the conversation going, but he was sort of interested, had been since he'd sat next to Nicky in that cubicle, eating his chocolate sprinkle donut. He hadn't told Nicky everything himself, he supposed, was still keeping his sexual history guarded. Not lying, exactly, but he felt like they'd come too far to mention it. Not that it mattered now. Now he had quite a bit of experience. And if things kept on this way, he'd probably never need to. Nicky was good at not pressuring, and teaching while doing, probably without even meaning to.

“Dunno. There's probably stuff that's just not come up yet.” Nicky shrugged. “Nothing off the top of my head.” He bit his lip, thinking. “Erm... I used to have a stuffed bear called Monty.”

“Well, that's changed everything.” Mark joked. “I don't know if I can cope with that.”

“It's a big step, I know.” Nicky laughed. Then he turned around. Mark nearly ran into him, was about to step back when arms came around his waist. They were knee deep in bracken now, but Nicky didn't seem to notice this time, was suddenly hugging him tight. Mark hugged back, confused.

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” Nicky looked up, opened his mouth like he was about to say something, and then closed it, shaking his head. “Nothing.” He repeated, finally. “You know I'd never hurt you, right?”

“I guess.” Mark shrugged. “Why would you?”  
  
“I'm not...” Nicky sighed, leaned up to kiss him gently. Mark let him, sinking into it a little. “I haven't always been the best person, okay? Not because I meant to be, but because I was just stupid. Young and...” He shook his head. “I didn't know you before we met at the movies that day. You weren't anything to me, and now I feel like I'm a different person since then. I like being this person and...” He bit his lip. “So, anything I did... anything I was before then... It was never personal, okay?”

Mark squinted. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” He admitted. “What do you mean before then? What were you like?”  
  
“I was a selfish idiot.” Nicky shrugged. “And now I'm not. I don't want to be.” He reached up, cupping Mark's cheek. “You are so perfect, and I want you to have the world.”

Mark's eyebrows knitted, despite the rush of affection he felt. What did Nicky mean, selfish? He'd been thoroughly kind, comforting, and giving through this whole thing. Taking Mark places, making sure he was taken care of. He felt a little selfish himself, accepting all these things Nicky had been giving him.

“Huh?”

Nicky shook his head, looked like he was about to say more, and then he yelped, leapt almost vertically, his arms coming around Mark's neck, legs clinging to him.

“Something on my leg!” He squeaked, practically trying to become Mark's jacket. “Get it off, get it off, get it off!”

Mark laughed, taking a couple of steps back and putting him down on the dirt. Nicky was already bending, swatting at his leg like it was on fire. Mark crouched down, steadying him, and quickly pushed up his jeans leg. He pulled out a long piece of grass that had gotten trapped there, and held it up.

“Oh god, it could have killed you!” He snorted. Nicky pouted, turning away. “Oh, come on, Nico.” He protested, hugging him from behind. “It was pretty funny.”

“It's not. It could have been poison ivy.”

“Seeing as it doesn't grow in Ireland, I think that's unlikely.” He kissed Nicky's cheek. “I'll save you.”

“Promise?” He felt Nicky relax a little bit, held him close.

“Definitely.”

 

*

 

Nicky had to admit that this was pretty nice. The sun was going down, kissing the water, and he was all snuggled up with Mark in a small cave overlooking the shore. He'd been a bit iffy at first, worried about bugs or something in the dark, but it was clean and dry, had a bit of graffiti on the walls, so was obviously a well-used make-out spot. Mark ran fingers through his hair, holding him against his side. Nicky sighed, settling happily in.

“This isn't too awful?” Mark asked. Nicky snorted, kissing his shoulder. The water was rippling with the occasional fish, and he could see the white curve of a swan near a small island. There was a splash, suddenly, and something dark flopped through the air for a moment before disappearing again.

“What was that?”

“Could be salmon, maybe an otter.” Mark didn't sound amazed at all. Nicky tilted his chin up to rest on Mark's shoulder, kissed his cheek. There was a sharp, sudden trill, and Nicky reached into his pocket, getting a glare from Mark when he found his phone and accepted the call. “Really?”

“Just a minute. Hey Kian.”

“Hey Nicky.” There was a sigh. “Look, I know this is short notice, but Shane's shitfaced. Do you want to crash at mine tonight instead of driving back? He's not up to it.”

“Just a minute.” He looked at Mark. “They can't go home tonight. Can we crash at yours?” Mark shrugged. “Ki? Don't worry, I'll stay at Mark's.”  
  
“Erm...” There was a heavy pause on the other end. “I thought they didn't know he was...”  
  
“Uh yeah, they sort of do now.” Nicky chuckled, leaning into Mark's side despite the glare he was still getting. “He's a bit out.” He dug fingers into Mark's side, tickling. “I met his folks and all. His mam loves me.” There was silence on the other end. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I am.” He could hear Shane swearing in the background, muted music. “So, what? He came out because of you?”

“Not really. Just seemed like a good time, seeing as I'm apparently his boyfriend.” God it felt good saying that. Maybe it was just the nature getting into him. A kiss was pressed to his forehead. “It's cool, I'll take advantage of the Feehily hospitality and meet you in the morning. How did it go by the way?”

“Not great.” Kian sounded flat, but Nicky supposed that was fair. “Look, we'll talk about it tomorrow. Pick us up around eleven, I think he's going to need a sleep in. I have to...” He trailed off. Something crashed in the background. “Oh, fucking hell. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? .”

Nicky was going to say goodbye, but Kian was already gone. He shrugged, put the phone back in his pocket. Mark was still glaring at him, but there was a smile in his eyes.

“You're telling people I'm your boyfriend now?”

Nicky paused. He sort of wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Hadn't really thought about asking Mark. They were exclusive, they'd labelled the thing, there didn't seem any reason not to say it.

“Is that okay?” He asked. A dimple appeared in Mark's cheek right before he was kissed.

“Yeah.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

Kian was exhausted, as he sat in the back of the car. It was a strange sort of deja vu. Nicky driving, Mark in the passenger seat staring out the window, Shane slumped against Kian in the back. Except this time they were going the other direction and Shane smelled rather strongly of vodka, Red Bull and vomit. They'd had to stop twice for him to throw up, and they were only half an hour out of Sligo. He'd nodded off now, but being asleep in the backseat was bound to make him carsick as well, and Kian couldn't wait for that geyser.

Last night had been a total shambles. They'd gone to the pub, had a couple of beers, and then a lad from their highschool had seen them and asked how they were. Totally well meaning, but then he'd mentioned he'd heard about Shane's mam and he was really sorry for his loss, and Shane had laughed bitterly, shaken his head, and Kian had had to tell the lad 'cheers, but probably not the best time'.

And then Shane had really started drinking.

Kian had tried to stop him, he really had. But every time he got up to go to the toilet it seemed Shane had downed another one, had his next one already in hand. He was doing it almost silently, barely speaking, just sitting in the booth staring at the table, and that was probably okay, because he wasn't hurting anyone, was just drowning his sorrows a bit, which Kian understood perfectly.

It had been almost eight-thirty by the time they left. Kian figured a walk home would probably do Shane good, and a cab was unlikely to take them with how trashed he was, but the cold air had sobered him up just enough to make him able to read the sign on a pub they passed, and before he knew it Shane was yanking out of his grip and pushing through the front door of Fureys. They'd been there. All six Filan children. And Shane, who had said some fairly profanity-laced things about them all being fucking cowards, thrown a glass, which had smashed on the floor near Mairead's feet, and stormed back out. Kian had followed, feeling like he was being caught up in a small, angry tornado, and had found him outside, sobbing and throwing up in the bushes.

So he'd called Nicky, asked if it was okay to stay the night, and by the time he was about to get off the phone Shane was storming back through the doors, where he had tripped over a barstool before Kian could catch him and drag him back out again.

He hadn't mentioned it to Mark or Nicky. Shane was like to be embarrassed when he was sober and awake again, and it wouldn't do to rub it in. He didn't particularly know how he felt about talking to Nicky, anyway, not after last night.

He felt fucking terrible. Angry.

He knew he'd done this himself, had started a bet that had gotten a bit out of control, but this was callous. Letting Mark think Nicky was his boyfriend, to the point where Mark was coming out to his parents. Taking advantage of the Feehily hospitality, apparently. Bringing him on trips like this. It was cruel. And then at the end Kian was supposed to sleep with him again, offer something as paltry as free drinks because someone had become a better lay.

He didn't feel like sleeping with anyone. Just wanted Shane happy and well. Definitely didn't want drinks, not after this weekend. He was busy trying to pick up the broken pieces of his boyfriend for the second time in six years, and Nicky was swanning about as though the most important thing in the world was playing this rather sweet, shy lad who looked at him with the most heartbreaking reverence. Kian could see it, that look he'd felt in his own eyes when he'd first fallen for Shane. And Nicky was encouraging it, was complimenting him and opening doors for him, stringing him along, building him up.

And it was all Kian's fucking fault. He knew it was Shane's too, partly, but he couldn't begin to make that Shane's problem, not now. Not while he was falling apart.

They stopped at a set of lights, and Kian looked up to see Mark reach out, tickle Nicky's nose with something that looked like a long piece of grass. Nicky rolled his eyes, shoving him lightly, and Mark giggled, tickling him again.

“Dickhead.” Nicky snorted, and then the car lurched forward again, his eyes on the road while Mark looked at him with such fondness it was awful.

Shane stirred against his side, and Kian was interrupted from other peoples' problems for long enough to look down, into a sleepy frown that still looked a little green around the edges. Shane burped, then covered his mouth. Nicky pulled the car over, and he leaned out, threw up out the door. Kian looked up, saw eyes that were laughing a little bit while Kian's love threw up with a sob in his voice.

Then Nicky looked back at Mark, snatched the grass out of his hand, and tucked it into his pocket, pushing a pouting face away while Shane pulled himself back into the car, wiped his mouth, and nodded. Kian kissed his forehead, pulled him close, and as the car began to move he stroked his hair, his world filled with the pallid, tired face of the man he loved.

 

*

 

“What you doing?” Nicky asked.

“Bernard needs a tie.” Mark explained. He had knotted the piece of grass into a bow, and was slipping it over the tiny plastic monkey's neck, tightening it until it sat straight. “There we go. That's very civilised.”

“Our little monkey's growing up.” Nicky agreed, putting his arm around a solid waist and feeling an arm drape around his shoulders. “I had a good weekend. Despite the... you know.”

“Funeral?” Mark supplied. “You're so odd.”

“No, I'm just complicated.” Nicky informed him, leaning in.

“And terrible at being in the country.”

“I'm amazing at being in the country.” Nicky informed him. “When was I not good at being in the country?”  
  
“Erm... when you were complaining about the mud, the bugs, the snakes and spiders that weren't even there. When you were getting scared of a piece of grass. When we walked back and you were scared of the dark...” 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Nicky said seriously. “I think you're thinking of someone else.”

“Not lately.” A kiss dropped to his cheek. “There'll be photos soon, anyway. Evidence.” He'd taken a few snaps with his parents' camera, his own having been left at home. It was an ancient one, not even digital. His mam said she'd send the photos when they finished off the roll and got them developed.

“Evidence that I'm amazing at being in the country?” Nicky suggested, got a disbelieving laugh back. “Anyway, are we going to stand here staring at Bernard all day, or am I going to shag your brains out? I still haven't fingered you yet, so that's on the menu if you're interested.”

“Not after all that rich food last night.” Mark pulled a face. “But I'll let you go down on me if you like.”

“Oh, cheers.” Nicky smirked, looking up at this boy, this man who was capturing his heart so quickly. He didn't want to say anything, wasn't even sure of his own feelings yet, but he thought maybe this could be the real thing. He certainly couldn't see himself thinking of anyone else, especially not when Mark was bending to kiss him, fingers running up his sides. He groaned, rolling into the touch.

“Bedroom?” Mark suggested. Nicky was already running.

 

*

 

The week dragged. Mark was genuinely behind with work now and had to show enough resolve to be home by himself for a few nights to catch up. They were in constant contact, of course, but it wasn't the same as having a random conversation and being able to reach over and put his hand on Nicky's thigh, not even with intent, just to feel him there.

He'd spoken to his mother on the phone since he'd gotten back, and she'd said to bring Nicky to visit whenever he liked. He appreciated it. His brothers had been home when they'd gotten back from the Lough, and while they'd looked a bit surprised Nicky had won them over quickly by showing them a few football tricks, bouncing it off his knee and doing mad footwork until there was a lesson under way, the three of them giggling while his brothers tripped over the ball.

It was Thursday night before they saw each other again. Nicky came over and they necked on the couch for a long time, hands exploring skin until they were both naked and wound against each other, not fucking, just being. All wrapped up in Nicky while they'd kissed and stroked and touched, feeling every hair and pore, hearing soft moans, fingers trailing all over his skin, breathing hard until there'd been no option but to push a hand between them, caress Nicky until he cried out hoarsely into Mark's ear and came, hot and shaking. Until he'd rolled them over, lay on top of him and ground himself against Nicky's thigh, their hands entwined above their heads, beautiful pale skin stretched out underneath him.

And then going back to work the next day, feeling the most relaxed he had all week. Flying through lessons, feeling his students catch his mood until class was a joy. Meeting Nicky for dinner and spending a Friday night out, drinking cocktails and snuggling in a booth over dessert.

They'd gone out for karaoke after that and he'd met Nicky's dad, had laughed and shaken his head when he was asked if he was going to have a sing himself, and then gotten a bit braver a few drinks later and picked a Stevie Wonder song off the list, got a round of applause that he really hadn't expected. Bryan showed up about an hour before they left and bought them a round, made him get up and sing another one since he'd missed the first one. They'd done it together, the three of them managing a drunken version of a Supremes song.

Nicky was a good singer. Mark was a little surprised. Bryan was good too. They'd stumbled home after one in the morning and fallen into bed, Nicky snuggled sleepily to his chest.

Everything was perfect.

 

*

 

This music was terrible. Shane had sort of wanted to go to the other place up the road, but it had a queue that stretched around the block and he didn't have time for that crap when he could walk straight into this one and get himself a drink within a minute. Kian had agreed, and at least the shots were making the music a little less awful.

After last weekend he'd promised himself he'd never drink again. It was a lie, of course, it always was, but he'd felt wretched for two days, had still been drunk half of Sunday and not shaken the hangover entirely until Monday night. He had Monday off already as compassionate leave, thank god, though he wasn't sure how compassionate he was feeling.

Kian had filled him in, sort of, when Shane said he didn't remember what had happened the previous night. He did, he just didn't want to admit it. It wasn't what he'd said, he'd stand by that a hundred percent, it was more the drunkenness and throwing of glasses, possibly the part where he said he hoped the dried up old bitch would get raped by faggots in hell. It could have been that part, he suspected. Though the worst bit was probably their faces, the blank, anxious stare that said they fucking knew what he was saying was true, but just hoped they wouldn't have to actually hear it, in case it upset the delicate balance of the lies they'd built for themselves.

He hadn't heard from any of them. Didn't want to. He just wanted what he always had. Kian, holding his hand through this whole mess, being next to him and not letting go.

Or handing him a drink. That was good too.

“You look nice.” Kian said quietly. Shane leaned his head on a strong shoulder, feeling a hand close on his waist.

“Just nice?”

“No, but it's definitely included on the list.” A kiss pecked his cheek. “Seen Nicky yet?”

“Not yet, no.” He turned to look at Kian. “Is everything all right between you two? You seemed a bit off with him last weekend.”  
  
“I'm surprised you remember last weekend.” Kian teased gently. “But it's fine, I guess. I don't know. I'm starting to rethink this whole bet thing.” Shane looked at him in askance, wondering if he needed to remind him that he'd said the same thing not two weeks before. “Yes, I know you said that already. Shut up.”  
  
“I didn't say anything.” Shane sighed. “What's happened?”  
  
“I don't know. Maybe it's nothing.”

“Or maybe it is?”

“I don't know.” Kian repeated. “I just think it's gone a bit far. Mark came out to his parents last weekend, did you know? Told them Nicky was his boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Shane bit his lip. “How'd it go?”

“Quite well, apparently.” Kian shrugged. “And that's it, you know? Mark's making Nicky part of his life, and Nicky's encouraging it. To win a bet.” He sighed. “I feel bad. Mark's not a bad guy, and now he's being used for something stupid. I don't even care anymore. I don't really want to shag other people anyway, not with everything going on, so even if it does go a month, even if Mark is the best shag in the world, it's not going to matter anyway because I won't shag him. But then I feel like that's even worse, because the only way Mark's going to want to shag me is if Nicky dumps him, which he will do if he thinks he's going to win, and then Mark will be heartbroken and I won't want to keep up my end so what was the point?”

Shane nodded. He'd been half thinking it himself, though not in so many words.

“Bit over our heads?” He asked. Kian nodded.

“Yeah. I don't know. Maybe I should talk to Nicky or something. Tell him it's off and to let him down easy.”

“Maybe.” Shane agreed. His phone beeped, and he jumped as it vibrated. He pulled it out of his pocket, checked the message. “Nicky's out. Says he and Mark have decided to stay in.” He looked up at Kian. “Erm... do you want to go to that other place? The music here's terrible.”

Kian shrugged. “I don't know.” He put the glass down. “I'm not really in the mood, to be honest. Do you want to go home and snuggle up on the couch? I have a frozen pizza I can do. We can watch a movie.”

“Is it sad that that sounds like the best idea?” Shane hopped down off his stool, abandoning his drink. “Are we getting old?”

“Nah.” Kian laughed. “Just grown up.”

 

*

 

Mark bit his lip, sucking in a breath when he felt the first wriggle of a finger against him. They were in the bath, Nicky draped across his chest, hand stroking him slowly through the mounds of bubbles.

“Tell me to stop if it's too much.” Was murmured against his neck. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, closing his eyes, bracing himself a little.

“Just relax.” He breathed. “It's going to feel so good.”

And then he was in. He thought it hurt for a moment, but then he realised it didn't. That it was nothing like pain, more like discomfort. It twisted a little deeper. He didn't get it. It wasn't awful, he supposed, but nothing all that impressive. Nicky was crooking his finger, and he felt a slight scrape, wondered what was going on...

Oh, fucking hell.

Nicky giggled when he came back up, spluttering and coughing out water, so surprised he'd let go of the edge of the bath and slid in.

“Fuck.” He gasped. Nicky smirked, pecking his lips. “What was that?”

“It's going to be a lot more in a minute. Wait...” Nicky ducked, grabbed Mark's legs, and a second later they were over Nicky's shoulder. He crossed his feet on Nicky's back, his thighs flopping out a little, and then Nicky was mouthing at his balls, hand jerking him slowly. He must have looked ridiculous, hips in the air, arse resting on the top of the water while he gripped the sides of the bath with both hands to stop himself getting dunked. The other hand pressed against him again, a finger slipping in easily in the wet, and then...

It was like pressure. Like being turned inside out. He wasn't sure if it felt good or if it was just intense, but then Nicky was stroking him a little faster, his mouth wet around Mark's balls, and that finger was nudging him over and over and oh fuck, he was about six seconds from coming, because it felt like Nicky's finger was pushing it out of him.

He tried to say something, but it just came out as a garbled whine, and Nicky was giggling around a mouthful, the vibrations charging through him like lightning, and he was off, hands gripping harder so he didn't drown in the process of having all his senses stroked out through his cock.

He was let back down slowly, knew he was laughing vaguely to himself and didn't much care. A hand stroked through his hair, Nicky kissing him slowly and holding him up against the end of the tub.

“So that was all right, then?” He teased. Mark nodded, trying to catch a breath. “Breathe.” He urged. Mark did, gasping in deep and then huffing it out, feeling kisses trip up his jaw. “So sexy. Making you come.” He looked down, laughed. “Erm... we should probably get out...” Mark looked down as well, snorted when he saw the floating mess of his own release.

They got out, had a quick shower to wash off any errant cum, and not long later were curled up in bed, kissing slowly, hands moving over each other.

“I want you to fuck me.” Nicky whispered. Mark shut his eyes, gulping back sudden, flustered arousal. “Not tonight, but soon. I'm going to get all ready for you. Gonna clean up, gonna get all relaxed, and then I'm going to have you fuck me.” He kissed Mark deep and grabbed his hand, pulled it down to a heavy erection. “Touch me.” He moaned when Mark got a grip. “Gonna think about you fucking me while you touch me.” He shivered in Mark's arms, his head tilting back on a soft whimper. “Gonna be so fucking tight for you..."

“Nicky...” Mark managed, feeling himself spike with lust. “God, I want that.”

“Want you too...” He arched into the grip. “I want you to come inside me. Want it... oh fuck, baby...” He gasped, face burying in Mark's shoulder. “Fill me up. Make me come, I'm...” His eyes squeezed tight, and Mark ducked his head, guiding him up into a kiss. It was sloppy, ragged, Nicky's fingers gripping his hair while he was taking his mouth. “Finger me. Want it.”

“Yeah.” He spat on his free hand, slicking the fingers like he'd been told to do, then pushed it back down, getting it slid under Nicky's side and reaching down, pressing in carefully. Nicky went mad, thrusting against him, rocking in and out of his grip. Mark felt, tried to crook his fingers, feel for...

“Ah!” He cried, twisting in Mark's grip. “Right there. Fuck, I'm... I can't...” He gasped, pushing down onto Mark's hand, forward into the one Mark was still trying to move with some rhythm while he was distracted by the one in Nicky's arse. It was batted out of the way a second later while Nicky reached down to stroke himself hard, their mouths sealing together while he brought himself off, breath filling Mark's mouth in panicked, panting gasps. “Oh...” He closed his eyes tight, jamming himself back onto Mark's finger. “Don't stop, I...”

Their mouths clamped back together, and Mark felt a wretched, shaking groan against his tongue, felt Nicky's arse clamp down, wetness spill over his other hand. Their mouths wrenched apart and Nicky was crying out then, their foreheads pressed together, hand in his hair hard enough to hurt.

Nicky choked something out, something he didn't quite hear, and then was collapsing, falling backwards onto the bed, and Mark was holding him all the way down,

 

*

 

Nicky couldn't quite believe he'd said that. Done that. Writhed around in Mark's arms like a whore, saying things that were probably a bit ridiculous in hindsight. It had felt right at the time, though, telling Mark how much he wanted to be fucked. Which he did. Not in a crude, awful sense, but he wanted Mark there, wanted to be filled up, owned, held while Mark was inside him.

And then he'd gotten a bit too into it, enjoyed the finger in his arse a bit too much, and said something really really stupid. Something he half suspected was true. That might have been a bit of a mistake to blurt out this early on.

I love you.

Then they'd fallen asleep, all snuggled up in bed and determinedly not mentioning what Nicky had said. Or Nicky was. He wasn't even entirely sure that Mark had heard him. Hoped he hadn't, because if he had he wasn't saying anything and that was probably worse. So he'd focused on the feelings of strong arms around his waist, comforting, regular breaths on the back of his neck, and gone to sleep.

When he woke, Mark was gone.

He panicked for a second, sure that Mark had snuck out while he was asleep, too freaked out by the whole 'I love you' thing. It would make sense, he supposed. He just hoped he could make it right, find some way to to not make things weird. Because he thought maybe he did love Mark, and losing him over those feelings might just kill him.

He stumbled out and found Mark on the couch, all tucked up in a blanket, his hair a mess while he yawned over a cup of tea and watched telly. There was some Sunday morning music show on and the Sugababes were doing whatever the Sugababes did. Mark held out one side of the blanket and Nicky sank into it with relief, the blanket closing again around them both.

“Morning.” Mark yawned, kissed Nicky's cheek, rubbing it with his nose. “I had to pee, and then I didn't want to wake you.”

“I thought you'd abandoned me.” Nicky admitted, got a soft laugh back.

“Never.” His cheek was kissed again. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” He leaned his head into a strong shoulder. “Just sleepy.” Mark's mug was pressed into his hand a moment later and he sipped gratefully, feeling tea run down his throat and warm his belly. Handed it back. “Last night was fun.”

“That's a way to put it.” Mark laughed. “Were you serious?”

Nicky groaned internally. Okay, Mark had heard him after all. He didn't know what to say, whether to start backtracking and explaining himself or laugh the whole thing off as a joke, whether that would make things worse.

“Marky, when I said...” He swallowed. “When I said I loved you, it wasn't...” Mark was staring at him, look expectant. “I don't expect anything, okay? It was a heat of the moment thing and...”

“Erm...” Mark interrupted, putting his hand over Nicky's. “Sorry, when you said what?”

“When I said that I love you, I...” Nicky stopped. “Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I was talking about fucking you. I thought...” He pulled back a little, his eyebrows knitting. “You said you love me? When?”

“When I was coming, I...” Nicky felt himself turn red, his heart start to race ahead of the panic suddenly filling him. “Oh shit, you didn't hear me? Shit. Oh fuck.” He covered his mouth, wondering if he could put the words back in somehow. “Look, forget I said anything.”

“Uh...” Mark laughed slightly. “Sorry, start again. You said you love me.”

“It was an accident! I didn't...”

“So you don't love me?” Mark was looking pained, looked about as confused as Nicky felt. “What... um...” He sighed. “Okay, do you love me or not?”  


 

*

 

Mark felt like he was about to throw up through sheer panic. Nicky was looking flushed, was getting stuttery, and apparently had said something fairly game-changing that Mark had managed not to hear. He didn't know if he wanted to hear it, didn't know if having it said might drag him under in this thing. He wanted it, wanted that, but this was already going so fast and he suspected that if it was said he might actually staple himself to Nicky's side, call in dead to work, and never ever leave.

It was a lot, very quickly. In less than a month he'd managed to go from being rather single and unsure, to being rather attached, then exclusive, then having a boyfriend, coming out to his parents, having some ridiculously good sex, being ecstatically happy, and maybe sort of kind of being in love.

He was sort of kind of in love.

“It...” Nicky took a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Mark nodded, trying to slow his heart. Trying to seem at least a little bit cool when all he wanted to do was giggle hysterically like an eleven year old girl. “I... I'm in love with you.”

“Oh!” Nicky giggled suddenly, looking a little hysterical. Except he was very definitely not an eleven year old girl. Mark squeezed his hand, getting a smile back that was covered by a bitten lip. “Erm... well, good. Then. Yep. I love you.”

“Right.” Mark nodded. “Look, I'm... I'm about to have a small panic attack, if that's all right? Just um...” He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, tried to swallow back the thumping heart in his throat. When he opened his eyes, Nicky was kissing him.

It broke, and Nicky leant back, a goofy grin on his face.

“I... I love you.” Mark said quietly. “I know that's mad, and maybe we don't know each other that well yet but... I don't want to be anywhere but with you. I want to know you and... and do things together and be with you and...” He swallowed. “Yeah.” He looked up, exhaling slowly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nicky agreed, his eyes bright. Mark grinned, leaning in for another kiss.

 


	13. Chapter 13

Nicky was humming as he remade the bed with clean sheets. He'd been sorting things all afternoon, had taken an early finish from work, claimed he wasn't feeling well. It was a lie, obviously because he felt fantastic. Had since a few days before when he'd rather awkwardly managed to blurt out that he loved Mark, and Mark had rather awkwardly said it back.

Then they'd had a bunch of sex on the couch.

That had been three days ago, and all he knew was that if he floated any higher he'd be banging his head on the ceiling.

It was probably silly, cleaning the whole apartment, making sure the bed was clean and tidy, that he himself was clean and tidy, having a bit of a scrub up with the shower head after he'd gone to the toilet. Wanted this to be reasonably romantic and not weird and messy. Wanted to make his first time with Mark something special, something for both of them.

He was really fucking nervous.

He was really fucking happy.

He still had a while to wait, so he did a quick vacuum, refluffed the pillows on the bed, and then realised he was being bloody ridiculous. He needed something to do, so he began to play with his phone, just mucking about with a game of Snake, then jumped when it started to ring in his hand.

He picked up. Shane.

“Hey Nico!” He sounded upbeat. Nicky was glad. After the weekend of the funeral he'd been a bit worried, but Kian had been protecting him, shielding him, so Nicky hadn't tried to get involved, just tried to keep as normal a face on as possible. He didn't know if that was right, but they weren't talking about what had happened and he didn't feel it was his place to push.

A small part of him was glad they were distracted, that he hadn't had to talk too much about the Mark situation. Kian had been a dick about it anyway, and that wasn't a conversation he felt like having.

“Shaney.” Nicky greeted him. “What can I do for you?”

“What you doing tonight? We thought we'd go get dinner or something.”

“Oh.” That sounded nice, but the plans he already had sounded a bit nicer. “Can't, sorry Shane. Got Mark coming round in a bit.”  
  
“Bring him, if you like...”

“No, it's um...” Nicky felt himself warm a little at the thought. “It's sort of a staying in kind of night, if you know what I mean?”

“Oh right. So how's that going? You've got... what, four days left?”

“It's going very well.” Nicky chose to ignore that last bit. “I um...” He took in a breath, his smile making his cheeks hurt. “I told him I loved him.” There was a long pause on the other end. “Shane?”

“Does he love you?” Shane asked finally. Nicky wished Mark was here so he could hug him.

“Says he does, yeah.” Nicky laughed. “It's all going great, to be honest.” He didn't know why he was saying all this, just had too much happiness in him and didn't know how to hold it all in without bursting.

“Is...” There was a swallow, then his voice was hard. “Right. You know, I don't know what I expected, Nicky, but it wasn't for you to behave like such a dick.”

“What?” Nicky felt himself step back a bit, shocked. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“He's a fuck, Nicky. For god's sakes, it's not that important.”

“Well it's a bit fucking important to me.” Nicky shot back. “Jesus, so I've been wasting my time for a whole month because you say? Fuck, Shane, this was your idea. You wanted me to fuck some cast off of Kian's, and I'm the bad guy? At least I'm taking things fucking seriously. Shit, from what I've seen so far, you're just pissed off that you've lost.”

“Yeah, well obviously it was a mistake.” Shane growled back. “Look, bet's off. Fuck it. I...”

“Fuck it? Shit, I forgot that what you say goes, Shane. You and Kian, fucking everybody about. Hell, just fucking everybody. You think you have any right to judge me and my fucking sex life when you're shagging everything that moves?” He knew he was pushing it too far, knew that wasn't fair, but fuck, he was pissed off. He loved Mark. Loved him, and all Shane could do was call him a fuck. “I don't want anything to do with your fucking bet. I don't particularly want anything to do with you. And for the record, Mark is a pretty excellent shag, not that either of you will ever find that out.”

He hung up. He couldn't do anything else. Tossed the phone at the coffee table harder then he meant to and dropped onto the couch hard, crossing his arms over his chest.

Fuck them. Fuck Shane. Fuck Kian.

He put his head in his hands.

Fuck.

 

*

 

When Mark finally made it over, it was almost dark. He'd had to supervise an afternoon detention and hadn't made it out until after six, though he'd been fairly desperate to, by the end.

They'd been texting all afternoon, though it had dropped off a bit in the last hour. Mark figured he was taking a shower or something, and he had been promised a nice night in. He wasn't really sure what to expect, but if it was Nicky it was bound to be nice.

He'd gotten another message, flashing up in his screen when he was heading out of his apartment with a backpack filled with spare clothes. Not that he thought he was really going to need them, not after the last few nights. He didn't need much of anything, not when Nicky loved him.

Nicky loved him.

They'd held off a bit, neither all that willing to go saying it too much, in case it got weird, but when he did hear it, when he got texts at work telling him he was loved, when he got to send one back, when Nicky was under him, gasping it in his ear, or whispering it while they watched a movie together, snuggled up against his chest. And then that morning, kissing him while Mark tried to leave, leant against the side of his car, fingers trying to push under his shirt.

He knocked just after eight. Nicky opened it a moment later, leaning against the frame and smiling at him.

“Hey.” Mark nodded. “Can I come in?”

“In a minute. I'm looking.” Eyes crawled up him, and he laughed self-consciously. Nicky grinned, reaching out a hand. Mark took it, yelping when he was suddenly yanked in and pulled to Nicky's chest, a hand grabbing his arse. “Now I'm touching. Wanna guess what I'll do next?”

“Is it this?” Mark smirked, ducking to kiss him, hearing a soft moan, his hands drifting down to grab Nicky's arse. It was a long kiss, and deep, and when he broke for air he could feel Nicky breathing hard against him, one hand still on his arse, the other hooked around his neck. The door slammed behind him, making him jump. Nicky laughed.

“Come in.”

“Ta.”

They ended up on the couch. Nicky had made dinner, but didn't eat much of anything. His place looked really nice, though, all tidied up. It wasn't like it was ever that messy, but it looked like he'd really put in a bit of elbow grease. Everything was neat, the cushions on the couch perfectly arranged, the coffee table cleaned off except for the pasta Nicky had brought out. They had a beer each, made out a little, then Nicky said he loved him.

Mark said it back. It was the best feeling.

Then Nicky took him to bed.

It was beautiful, the lights dimmed a little, the bed done with fresh sheets and a new duvet cover. Nicky tugged him down on top, hooked a leg up around his waist, stroking fingers through his hair while Mark looked at him, trying to take it all in.

“I want you.” Nicky whispered. “Tonight.”

“Yeah.” Mark swallowed. He had a feeling it was going this way, had noticed the doting and sweetness, the considering look he'd been getting, the extra effort. “You sure?”  
  
“Really sure.” Nicky nodded. “We're going to take this slow okay? I'm gonna show you what I like.” Mark nodded, a little relieved. He didn't want to do this wrong, accidentally hurt Nicky or ruin things. “What do you like?”

“I want whatever you like.” Mark bit his lip. “I want to make you feel good. I just... I love you. I want it to be perfect.” Nicky chuckled, hand caressing his face. “What?”

“No, you're just the sweetest...” He shook his head. “Okay.” He lifted his head, and they kissed, slowly, Nicky's hands travelling over his back. “Let's just make out a bit.” He arched up. “We've got all night.”

Mark nodded. He liked the sound of that.

 

*

 

Nicky felt amazing.

They were lying on their sides, hands trailing all over him. Nothing urgent, just stroking slowly, a thumb brushing his hip, hand tickling over his thigh, sliding up his stomach, fingers caressing his arm, tracing over the backs of his hands. He was trying to return the favour, but he was too caught up, thought he'd maybe had his hand clamped on the back of Mark's neck for about five minutes now, had meant to touch him back but had been too overwhelmed by the tongue on his throat, the gentle nips at his collarbone. The foot stroking the back of his calf. It was all too much. He was hard, could feel Mark hard against him, couldn't stop making really embarrassing sounds that Mark would suck away, biting at his lips.

Fuck, he'd gotten good.

“Oh...” He gasped, arching when fingers drifted down the crack of his arse, pressing slightly for a moment then trailing back up his spine. It was the lightest, most torturous touch, fingertips mapping him out. “You feel amazing.”

“You do.” Mark mumbled back, pressing light kisses to the underside of his chin. “Can't stop touching you.”  
  
“Good.” Nicky managed, got a sweet laugh back. “I want you.”

“I love you.” Mark said quietly, so shyly. Nicky felt a lump sit in his throat, then get soothed away by the lips tracing down it. “What do you want?”

Nicky pressed into him. He felt wonderful, totally relaxed and good. Being around Mark was just easy. He never felt like he had to try. Like he wasn't enough. Mark was enough. He was everything Nicky wanted.

He sat up a little, turned to his own bedside drawers and fished out a bottle of lube and a condom. He'd had them for longer than he'd like to admit, hadn't had a chance to use them for quite a while. There'd not been reason to. Shit, he'd had to check for an expiration date just in case. But it was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was perfect.

He opened the bottle, squirted some over Mark's fingers, then snuggled back in, his arms around Mark's shoulders.

“Touch me.” He whispered. And, after a long, lingering kiss, Mark did.

 

*

 

Nicky felt amazing. Tight and wet and hot around him while he pushed in a third finger, heard a hungry whine in his ear. The first one had gone in easily, the second without much effort at all. Nicky had cried out, biting at his shoulder, rutting against him, and he'd bent his fingers a little, looking for the spot, figured he'd found it when Nicky yelped, grabbed his hair hard, lifted his leg to hook Mark's, opening himself up. The third one took a bit more, there was a bit of resistance, but then he was in and Nicky was making sounds, his hips moving like mad.

“Okay?” He checked, when he saw Nicky's eyes squeeze tight, wasn't sure if it was pleasure or pain. But then Nicky swallowed, his eyes opening to reveal dark, blown pupils, his lips parted while he growled out something that sounded like Mark's name, then buried his face in Mark's shoulder, heaving and gasping. “You feel so good.”

“I can't... oh fuck.” Nicky gulped. They'd been like this for more than half an hour, kissing while Mark added more fingers slowly, Nicky adding lube whenever it got harder. It was a strange thought, his fingers in somebody's arse, but when Nicky was reacting like this, rubbing against his thigh, it felt totally natural, like this was the perfect place to be. “I'm gonna come. I'm gonna come. Oh fuck, I...” He gasped, grinding harder. “Sorry, I'm...”

“It's okay.” Mark soothed, bringing their mouths together. Nicky whimpered, thrust a little harder, and then he was wet, feeling the slick pulse over his thigh, the sobbing release while Nicky breathed hard into his mouth, grabbing at his neck and back, wrapping around him.

Nicky came down a moment later, flopping into Mark's arms. There was a giggle against his chest, and Mark laughed too, stroking his hair with the hand not buried in his arse.

“You okay?”  
  
“I'm fantastic.” Nicky sighed, his face blotchy with flush when he looked up. “You're fantastic.” Mark twisted his fingers a little and he groaned. “I'm so ready.”

“You sure?” Nicky nodded, beginning to press light kisses all over his face, tickling. “How you wanna do this?” Nicky pulled away a little, rolled over on his back, tugging Mark with him. He ended up leant over him on knees and elbows, a cheeky smirk being directed up at him. He pushed sweaty blonde hair out of blue eyes that were still a little dazed with orgasm. Nicky reached over, snagging the condom that was still sitting on the bed.

“Here.”

“Yeah.” Mark wondered if it was worth mentioning he'd never had sex to have caught anything, and that time with Kian had been protected anyway. He'd come too far, though. He rolled it on, holding his breath until he got used to the change in pressure and was sure he wasn't about to embarrass himself. It was even harder a minute later when Nicky reached down, his hand covered with lube, and stroked him, slick and firm. He groaned, closing his eyes, and heard a laugh.

“Go slow, okay?”

“I um...” He swallowed, trying to breath evenly. “I can't actually guarantee I'm not going to come in about five seconds.” There was another laugh. Slick fingers ran down his nose. “Sorry.”

“You're so cute.” Nicky smirked. “Let's stop for a minute, okay?” He nudged Mark back, sat up a little. “Come have a cuddle.” Mark sank into the arms that were held out, resting his head on a slim, comforting shoulder. Nicky reached down, unrolling the condom and tossing it aside. Mark adjusted, trying to focus away from his erection. “Hey, how's Bernard?”

“Bernard's fine.” Mark laughed, surprised by the turn in conversation. “I've hardly been home. I should spend more time with him.”

“He'll cope.” Nicky assured him. “He's probably having a party while you're gone. Inviting over all the plastic tigers and giraffes and hippos over and getting trashed. You'll find tiny plastic vodka bottles everywhere. He'd be popular now he's got that sweet bow tie."

“It's definitely helped.” Mark agreed. “I was getting worried because he had no friends. Kept to himself, you know? Then he met this really cool orangutan and I think he's been led a bit astray.”

“Poor Bernard.” Nicky sighed. “Do you think he'll be alright?”

“As long as he's happy.” Mark nodded.

“Is he happy?”

“He's really happy.” A kiss pressed to his temple and he wriggled into it. “He knows things are moving a bit fast, but he thinks he might be really happy for the first time in his life.” He looked up, worried he'd gushed a bit much. “He just hopes the orangutan's happy too.”

“The orangutan is bloody ecstatic.” Nicky chuckled. “How you doing?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.” Mark nodded, looking down at himself. He was still hard, but it wasn't quite so urgent. “Feel a bit of a virgin, going off right away. Think I've got a handle on it now.”

“Good.” Nicky laughed, sliding out from under him. He grabbed another condom from the drawer, ripped it open and pushed Mark onto his back. “Change of plans.” His eyelids fluttered as it was rolled on, arousal striking him hard and fast. Then Nicky was straddling him, reaching back, slicking him, and Mark felt the press, a sudden tightness, and Nicky bit his lip, a whine forcing out from under his teeth.

Oh.

Oh god.

“Yes...” Nicky gasped, sinking a little lower. His eyes closed, then fluttered open again, hand finding Mark's while the other held him upright. He was only an inch in, maybe, but oh. “You feel so good...”

Mark tried to say something, only managed a gasping hiccup when Nicky rotated his hips a little, working him in deeper. He was sort of glad they'd taken a moment, because he would have been gone by now otherwise. It was too good, too tight, too hot, too much. A cry stumbled over Nicky's lips while he rocked down, his cock hard again. Mark reached out to touch it, feeling it throb in his grasp while he stroked.

“Nicky...” He swallowed when dark eyes fixed on him. “I... I love you.”

“Oh god...” Nicky gasped, his eyes pinching shut, and then fuck, he was all the way in and Nicky was leaning forward to kiss him, his hips rolling until Mark took up the rhythm, feeling so good he couldn't think.

 

*

 

Oh Jesus.

Oh God.

Oh Christ.

Oh fuck.

So fucking full.

Oh... oh fuck.

Mark.

Mark felt so fucking good.

Fuck.

 

*

 

Nicky...

 

*

 

“I love you.” Nicky gasped. They'd rolled over, Mark on top of him, Nicky's legs around a strong waist while they rocked together. His lover returned the sentiment a moment later, kissing him hard while they moved faster, deeper, Nicky so full he felt like he didn't have room left in him for anything else, anything but the feeling of Mark wrapped around him, a hand stroking him, the other one under his head, holding him into the kiss.

“So good.” Mark gasped. He was shaking, arms trembling. “You don't... oh god, you don't know...”

Nicky did. He really did. He was close again, knew he couldn't hold out much longer with the unstoppable pressure on his prostate, the clever hand tugging him. He squeezed down, laughed a little when he heard a surprised whimper, teeth scraping over his lip.

“Want you to come with me.” Nicky urged. “How close are you?”

“I'm... oh fuck, Nicky...” He sucked in a whistling breath. “Not yet. Nearly. Not yet.”

Nicky nodded, trying to focus past it, past the rush of desperation. He kissed Mark again, jerking back a little, trying to pull him nearer, not wanting this to end, needing to come. Pushed back harder, felt the thrust go deep, spear him, and then Mark was groaning against his mouth and Nicky was growling, wanting to just eat him up.

He felt the shudder, closed his eyes against it, then opened them, wanting to see this, wanting to see Mark come for him, in him, with him. See blue eyes that fluttered, rolled back while Nicky felt himself dragged over, felt the flood of heat, the burn when he felt himself tighten, the brutal, wonderful release, Mark's scent, sweat, skin all over him.

 


	14. Chapter 14

Nicky didn't think he'd been brought breakfast in bed since he was nine, snuggled up with the flu and coughing his guts out.

This was a bit nicer.

He ate the eggs and toast Mark made, sitting up in bed with his boyfriend's arm around his shoulders, kissing him every few bites. He felt good. Sore and used, but amazing nonetheless. He sort of wanted a hot bath, but he had to get up for work in a bit and Mark would have to go soon as well. It was Friday. He couldn't wait for the weekend.

Mark dropped him off, mostly so they could spend the car ride together, snogging at red lights and getting a smack on the arse when he climbed out. Then Mark climbed out too and they kissed against the side of the car until Mark really had to get going or be late for school.

The day flew. He called Mark at lunch, heard about his day so far.

Told him he loved him. Felt butterflies in his stomach when Mark said it back.

Settled back into his chair, wriggling and feeling the gorgeous discomfort. Waited for the day to end so he could get picked up, so they could go home and do it all over again.

“Hey.” He looked up. Still twenty minutes to go, but there he was already, a big grin on his face while he leant over the wall of the cubicle.

“Hello.” Nicky looked up. “How can we help you today?” He glanced around, but all the other cubicles were occupied and there were no free chairs. “I'm working. Come hide under my desk.”

“Jesus, Nicky, not in public.” Mark rolled his eyes, but he laughed and did as he was told, scooting under the desk and leaning against the wall, his knees bent up awkwardly, neck bowed so he didn't bump his head. “How was your day?”

“Better now.” Nicky grabbed a donut off his desk, passed it down. “Chocolate sprinkles?”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded, tore it in half, then handed one piece back up. Nicky bit the end. He grabbed the cup of tea on his desk and passed it down. It wasn't all that hot, but Mark thanked him, dunked the end of his donut in it, then took a sip. Handed it back up. “This is the weirdest picnic I've ever been on.”

“No ants, though.” Nicky pointed out.

“True.” He rested the donut on his knee and looked up. “Got you something.”

“Did you?” Nicky asked, surprised. Mark rummaged in his bag, pushing aside papers and a thick, heavy textbook. His hand closed around something a moment later and he held it up.

“Here.” Nicky laughed, taking the toy ship out of his hand. It was adorable, a black and white ocean liner with three steam chimneys. And sticky-taped to the deck was a tiny plastic orangutan.

“That's brilliant!” Nicky turned it, looking. It was sat in his hand, looked like it had come out of some sort of Fisher Price playset, was about the size of his coffee cup. The orangutan was just as crappy as Bernard, blindingly orange and with one arm longer than the other. “This is living on my desk.” He announced. “Place of pride.” He pushed aside his pen caddy, placing the boat carefully in the corner where it would be just in his eyeline while he took phonecalls.

“I had to go through about thirty bags of plastic animals at the junk store to find one.” Mark explained, looking adorably self-conscious. “It was all lions and bears and horses and stuff.”

“It's perfect.” Nicky assured him. “Do you think there was an orangutan on the Titanic? Do you think it was there when Jack and Rose kissed in that ballroom at the end?”

“There is now.” Mark laughed. “It was probably sitting on top of the car while they were shagging, eating a banana.”

“Pervert.” Nicky chuckled. He slid his chair back so he could look at Mark properly. “Thank you. Seriously. It might be the best, oddest present I ever got.”

“Cool.” Mark grinned, looking so pleased Nicky wanted to crawl under there with him. “Sorry I'm early. I'll wait here.”

“Damn right you will.” Nicky rolled back in, not able to see Mark any more but feeling a hand creep up to hold his. He picked up the phone, made a few more calls, then looked back down, half surprised Mark hadn't tried anything. Loving the fact that he hadn't. He was so utterly sweet, just waiting patiently while Nicky finished up, then looking up when Nicky reached down for his bag.

“Done?”

Nicky nodded. “Let's get the fuck out of here.”

 

*

 

Kian was a bit livid.

It wasn't so much what Nicky had said about Mark. He didn't really know the guy, but it wasn't right saying what he had to Shane. Shane had told him. That Nicky had said Mark was in love with him, that he was one of Kian's cast offs, that he was taking the bet seriously and that he'd been wasting his time for a month. Because he'd made Mark an excellent shag and now Kian and Shane didn't bloody want him.

It was cruel. It was fucking unfair and fucking cruel.

Two days left. Two days, and Nicky was going to break his heart. Might have done it already, now that Shane had said the bet was off. Was stringing this poor kid along because Kian had said something stupid and taken it too far.

He felt fucking awful.

And worse was what he'd said to Shane. That they were worse because they were always shagging other people. That he and Shane were somehow less. That they didn't have a shred of fucking humanity or empathy themselves and couldn't judge.

He wanted to punch Nicky's fucking head off. Had been about five seconds away from charging over there until Shane had taken his hand, calmed him down, and said it was fine. It wasn't their business. That he wasn't hurt, but that it was probably best if they don't see Nicky for a bit. Or ever.

That sounded alright to Kian.

Because fuck him, that self-righteous, callous piece of shit. Kian had thought Nicky was okay, had seemed like a nice guy, but ever since this bet had started he'd seen a different side, and he really didn't like it. Didn't know if he could keep looking at Nicky as someone who had always been generous and helpful and kind before all this. And he had been. He didn't know what it was. He knew Nicky was competitive, took things like this a bit too seriously, but this was too much.

Shane was in the kitchen, sorting a bit of dinner before they went out. Kian turned to look at him, laughing despite his anger when he saw Shane dancing a little bit to the radio, his arse wiggling. His boyfriend turned around, gave him a grin.

“What?”

“Just you.” Kian shook his head. “Great bum.”

“Ditto.” Shane smirked. “Come up here and shake yours with me. You can do the salad while I sort out the potatoes.”

That sounded alright to Kian. He got up, moulded himself to Shane's back, laughing when he started to shake his arse again, jerking in Kian's grip.

Nicky didn't know what he was talking about.

 

*

 

It was getting late when they made it to a club, already full on cocktails and pub food. Mark was humming quietly to himself, their joined hands swinging between them. He looked gorgeous. Nicky had dressed him again, dug around in his closet and found a white shirt that was too tight for work, but was just tight enough for Nicky to undo the top two buttons so a bit of chest hair was poking out, matched it up with the brown leather jacket Mark had been wearing on their first date and a pair of old jeans. Mark said he didn't wear them any more, so Nicky got a kitchen knife and put some casual jagged rips in the knees, made them a bit sexy.

It had been really hard to not pull them back off again and sit on Mark's cock.

They hadn't done it again yet, Nicky was still recovering a bit from last night, but he definitely felt good enough to snog on the couch, unzip those jeans and go down on him.

He closed his eyes, remembering Mark's hand on him not long after, stroking him torturously slow.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking how much I want to shag you.” Nicky opened his eyes, leaned into Mark's shoulder. “Last night was fantastic.”

“It was, yeah.” Mark leaned in as well, kissed his cheek. “Love you.”

“Love you.” Nicky replied. “You know it's been almost a month? Three more days.”

“I know.” Mark grinned. “Should we do something?”  
  
“We could have sex.” Nicky suggested, got a put-upon laugh back.

“It's your birthday soon.” Mark pointed out. It was. Three more weeks. “I need to get you a present.”

“You got me one. Monkey Titanic.”

“Ape Titanic.” Mark corrected. “Orangutans are apes, not monkeys.” Nicky laughed, shaking his head. Mark knew fucking everything. It was sweet though. He never rubbed it in, never seemed to realise how smart he was. “Now Titanic can stalk you at work, too. Anyway, that's not a birthday gift. That's an I love you gift.”

“I don't see you beating it for my birthday, though.” Nicky pointed out. “It was pretty excellent.”  
  
“I'll come up with something.” Mark kissed his cheek. “Something really special.”

Nicky turned, caught his lips before they could pull away. It was a long kiss, and tender. When he opened his eyes he realised they were standing outside a club. Well, one was as good as any.

“Just want you.” He said honestly, turning towards the door. Mark followed him through.

 

*

 

“You look like sex on a stick.” Shane said, giggling when Kian grabbed him and dipped him low. “Sir.” He curtseyed when he was tugged back up.

“M'lady.” Kian bowed, earning himself a shove. He pulled Shane back in a moment later, giving him a placating kiss. “I love you.”

“Good.” Shane nodded. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For... I dunno. Loving me. I couldn't have gotten through the last month without you. The last six years, come to that.” He reached up, and fingers ran through Kian's carefully styled hair. He didn't mind at all. “Thanks. It's meant a lot.”

“There was nowhere else to be.” Kian said honestly. “You're stuck with me.”

“I know.” Shane nodded. He leaned in, laying his head on Kian's shoulder. The lights were flickering over his face, green and pink, and Kian laughed as the bubble machine went on, feeling them pop in his hair. Shane was oblivious, just kissed his neck, relaxing into him. “Finbarr called.”  
  
“Did he?” Kian wasn't sure if he was surprised or not. Shane hadn't mentioned his family at all since the weekend of the funeral, and Kian hadn't pushed. Had just made it clear he was there for Shane and tried to keep him distracted and upbeat. It had seemed to be working okay, he seemed almost back to his own self. “What did he say?”

“Just... I don't know. That he was coming to Dublin in a few weeks to meet friends and wondered if I wanted to catch up.”

“Do you?”

“Maybe.” Shane said quietly. “I mean... it can't hurt to go have a pint, see what happens. I can always leave if it's not going well, right?”

“Definitely.” Kian agreed. This was good. This was a step. He stroked Shane's hair. “Do you want me to come?”

“Maybe it's better if I do this by myself...” Shane swallowed. “It's going to be weird, and...”

“Gotcha.” He knew Shane was trying not to offend him, but he wasn't taking it personally. This was something he needed to do, and Kian was happy for him. “Let me know if there's anything I can do.”

“You've already done plenty.” Shane lifted his face, kissed Kian's cheek. “Thanks.”

“Definitely.” Kian smiled, holding him in close.

“Hey...” Shane pushed back a little bit. Kian looked up, confused. “Is that...” He turned in Shane's arms, looking in the direction the older boy was pointing. And... yep, that definitely was. Mark, leaning against the bar with a drink in his hand. After a moment Nicky came wandering over, tugged gently at his hand, trying to lead him to the dancefloor. Mark shook his head, laughing, and Nicky pouted, crossing his arms. Kian couldn't hear what he was saying, but Mark was shooing him away, indicating his drink, and Nicky shrugged, dashing into the crowd.

“Well... shit.” Kian sighed. “You want to leave?”

“No, I...” Shane swallowed, both of them watch Mark watch Nicky, his eyes full of adoration. It was heartbreaking. “We should say something.”

“Yeah, you're right.” Kian agreed. He wanted to make this right, didn't want this ruining a nice, innocent lad's life. Mark had come out because of Nicky, upended his life, and now he was about to be shattered again. If it hadn't gone okay he could have been in the same situation as Shane, cast out and needing support, and Nicky wouldn't have been there for him. Would have made it a game. “I should...”

“No, I will.” Shane sighed, nudging him away. “You know what you're like. He needs this broken gently.”  
  
“You saying I'm not gentle?”

“No, you're a big, loudmouth eejit and I love you.” Shane kissed him, the sting lost from his words when he smiled. “You're not good at tact.”

“No, not really.” Kian admitted. “Okay.” He shrugged. “Go on, I'll wait here.” Shane moved away, and he watched him go, saw him start to make his way through the throng to the bar.

“Whoops.” He gasped as the air was knocked out of him from behind, turning to look at his assailant. “Sorry mate, must've slipped. Are you... oh.” Nicky looked at him, his hand steadying himself on Kian's shoulder. “Kian.”

 

*

 

“Nicky.” Kian said curtly. Nicky crossed his arms, looking at his friend. Or maybe not, after the shit Shane had said. He was still pissed off, despite the rather euphoric glow still persisting from last night. “How's your end of the bet coming?”

“Very well, apparently.” Nicky replied, not exactly feeling like discussing his relationship with Kian. “Seems to still be on, despite what Shane said.” He gestured over at the bar. “Might be I'm actually taking things seriously, even if you two seem to think it's some sort of game.”

“It _is_ a game.” Kian protested. “And you're playing it with an actual human being. It's not right, Nicky. I don't know what's got into you.”

“I seem to remember you picking him out, Kian. Tragic Mark, remember?” Nicky spat back. “It's not me who doesn't think he's a human being. Anyway, I've still got three days left. Do you still want to shag him? Because I think he's a bit out of your league, to be honest. I fucking fixed him. Isn't that what you wanted?” He was raging now, raising his voice, though nobody could hear it in the pulse of the club. “You're a real sport, Kian. Thanks a lot.”

“I shouldn't have started it.” Kian shook his head. “He's a nice guy, Nicky. You can't go telling him you love him. What's he going to be like in three days time when you break his heart?”

Nicky was confused. Why the hell would he break Mark's heart? He'd told Shane he loved Mark, and all he'd gotten was some bullshit about him being just a fuck, acting like a selfish, competitive arsehole.

“Why the hell would I break his heart? I love him.” He felt a scowl twist his face, saw Kian's twist in surprise. “I know that's inconvenient to this bet you're trying to win, but I'm not fucking about any more. I love him.” He started to walk away, wanting to find Mark and get out of here. There he was, standing at the bar. Talking to Shane. God, they got everywhere didn't they? Just had to meddle in everyone's lives.

“You love him?” Kian asked, hand closing on his wrist. “Wait a minute, when did that happen?”

“About ten minutes after I met him.” Nicky shot back, knowing it was a little bit true. It wasn't like they were getting married, but he'd been attracted to Mark from the first, had wanted to be in his company the moment he left it. “He's gorgeous, he's sweet, he makes me laugh, and he's fucking fantastic in bed. Happy? Mission accomplished. I know he's just a fuck to you, but you can't fucking have him.” He glared at Kian, shaking off his hand.

“Oh, Jesus.” Kian covered his mouth. Nicky turned away, saw Mark cover his own mouth, stumbling backwards off his stool. Shane was reaching out, putting his hand over Mark's, but it was shaken off a moment later. “Nicky... I'm so sorry.”

“What...?” Nicky glanced back at Kian, saw a red face. Turned back to Mark. Saw another one. Saw Mark run for the door, his jacket still draped over the stool. “Marky?” He said uselessly, watched him storm out. Shane was coming back over now, a look of surprise hitting his face when he saw Nicky. Kian put a hand on his shoulder.

“Nicky...”

Nicky felt his stomach drop.

“What the fuck did you do?”

 

*

 

It was nearly impossible to find a cab with his eyes blurred with tears, but eventually Mark managed to stumble into one, climbed in the back and forced out some basic directions. Felt them start to roll. Sort of wanted to stop again and throw up.

He was such a fucking idiot.

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, willing himself not to cry. Not yet anyway. Not until he was home again, back where he'd started a month ago, in his shitty apartment all by himself.

A game. It had all been a game. Some fucking joke at his expense because he was that fucking useless, wasn't he? The three of them, playing him. Nicky playing him. Lying and pretending and saying things he didn't mean. That Nicky loved him. That Nicky respected him. That Nicky even fucking  _ liked _ him. Using him to win a bet, making him believe they were going somewhere, that the sex had meant anything at all. That the dinners and the words and the gestures were real, that he wasn't manipulating him, buying him so he could prove a point to his friends.

He should have known. Should have realised when he heard Nicky switch into character, never realising that was the real Nicky, that the Nicky he knew had been a character all along. Fake, just like every word he'd said over the last month. Every promise he'd made. Every compliment. Every hug and moment and smile.

His phone rang. He rejected the call. It rang again. He turned it to silent. He got a text.

He didn't bother looking at it. Turned the bloody thing off. What was the point? So Nicky could lie to him again? Shit, he still had three days left, apparently, so he had to see this to the end. Because Nicky would do anything to get his own way.

Because of course. Of  _ course _ Nicky was out of his league. He'd known that. Had said it. Why the hell would he expect to suddenly stumble into a relationship with a gorgeous, sweet guy who just  _ got _ him? That was mad. That was fucking stupid. He was fucking stupid.

He was fucking stupid.

He got out of the cab, banged into his apartment and sank down on the couch, head in his hands. Let himself cry, after a moment, too ruined to do anything else. He didn't know what else he could do so he sat there for a long time, sobbing angry, embarrassed tears, feeling like the smallest thing in the world.

 

*

 

“Mark!” Nicky banged hard on the door. He knew Mark was in there, could see the glow spilling out underneath even though they'd turned off the lights before they went out. He'd gotten a cab as quickly as possible, hadn't been able to find Mark on the street for looking. Hadn't been able to get through to his phone.

“Go the fuck away!”

It was shouted back, his boyfriend's voice thick with tears.

“Mark... let me explain...” He called.

“FUCK OFF!” His voice was high, almost hysterical, and Nicky put a shoulder into the door, thought in his stupidity he might be able to knock it down. He just ended up with a sore shoulder, though, but after a minute he heard the door unlock and Mark was stood there, his face red with anger, eyes spilling tears. He stared at Nicky for a long moment. Nicky stared back.

“Mark...”

“Is it true?” Mark said quietly.

“It wasn't...” Nicky swallowed. “Can I come in?”

“No. Is it true?” A tear rolled down his cheek. “You only went out with me for a bet?”

“It's not... it started out that way, but I never...” The door started to close again and he put his hand out to hold it, felt Mark push against him. “I love you. I... I just thought it would be a good way to meet someone, you know? Someone where it wasn't about the sex, where we could just get to know each other and... and we did and...” Mark had stopped pushing at least, but his hand was still on the knob.

“So you had Kian _audition_ me?” Mark asked, his voice shrill. “You said 'there's a lad who's probably fucking worthless, let's fuck with him for...'” He trailed off. “What was the prize, anyway? After you got Kian to fuck me again, of course.”

“It doesn't matter...” Nicky protested. “It was never that. After ten minutes I was out. I never wanted you to be a bet. Not after I knew you.”

“So for the first ten minutes you were still playing me?” Mark asked. Nicky didn't know what to say to that. “And it does matter. What was the price? I hope it was good, because shit, you put in a good performance. What did you win, huh?”

“I...” Nicky gulped. He couldn't lie. Not now. It would only make things worse, add to the lies he'd already built up. “Free drinks for a week.”

Mark didn't say anything for a long time. He stared though, with eyes that seemed to burn right through Nicky's soul.

“Well, now I know how much I'm worth.” Mark nodded. The door began to close again, and Nicky forced his way into the space, shouldering it back open.

“You're not. You're worth everything. Please...” Nicky reached for him, saw him back away. “I was a fucking idiot. I fell for you straight away because you're so wonderful I couldn't help myself. I love you so much and...”  
  
“Yeah, you said that.” Mark shook his head. “You said a lot of things. But it doesn't...” He exhaled slowly, his voice shaking. “It doesn't matter because... because even if that's true, you're still the kind of person who would do that to someone. Because if you hadn't liked me, you still would have gone through with it, and I'd be in the same position. I...” He looked at Nicky, painfully still. “Do you know why I loved you?”

“Mark...” Loved. Past tense. It cut through Nicky like ice.

“Do you?” Mark breathed, his eyes brimming with tears. Nicky shook his head, not wanting to say the wrong thing. “Because for the first time in my entire life I didn't have to be afraid to be myself. Because I knew that I was with someone who wanted me exactly as I was, who respected me. Who thought I was interesting and impressive and who was honest about that. I was scared for my entire life. I didn't have to be scared anymore. For the first time in my life I felt like I wasn't living up to someone else's expectations of who I should be, that I was accepted, totally. Do you understand...” He shook his head. “And now I know that that was stupid. That I'm not enough. I'm so much less than enough. I'm a joke.”

“I'm so sorry...” Nicky reached out a hand again. It settled on Mark's wrist. The younger boy stared at it for a long moment, then shook it off.

“No.” Mark said quietly.

“You're not a joke. You're perfect. There's nothing wrong with you.”

“There is.” He whispered. “And it's you.”

“Marky...”

“No.” Mark said again. “Just go, Nicky. You've done enough.” His hand was on Nicky's chest then, firm, and he felt himself be pushed back.

The door closed a second later.

 


	15. Chapter 15

Mark didn't go into work on Monday. He said he was sick, couldn't get out of bed. Which was true, because he hadn't gotten out of bed on Sunday either. Or Saturday. Had just lain there, staring at the ceiling, running over everything in his mind, every painful, beautiful falsehood. Every conversation. Every touch. Every smile. Trying to find the lie in every look, the dishonesty in every word. Pulling apart every moment and seeing it, seeing the obvious, deliberate manipulation in every statement.

Nicky had used him. Had picked him out of a crowd of people worth even less to him, decided that Mark should be the rat in the maze and had led him through so perfectly. Goading him on, saying what he needed to hear, buying him dinners and watching movies with him and being so so patient that Mark had been overwhelmed with how much he'd mattered.

Knowing that Nicky had been gritting his teeth through the whole thing, just waiting through Mark's pointless rambling, his virginal awkwardness, biding his time and putting up with him until he could get it all under way. Timing it perfectly, everything falling into place like clockwork over the course of the month until he was ready to be played again, handed over to Kian like something second-hand and no longer needed.

There didn't seem much point getting up. What was he going to do? Go into work and stand in front of a room full of people, knowing just how little he was worth? Try not to burst into tears in front of a bunch of teenagers, feeling younger and more inexperienced than any of them?

He got up to pee. Went back to bed. Slept for a bit. Woke up with cheeks covered in drying tears, then figured he might as well add to them for a bit and cried until he couldn't any more. Stared at the ceiling. Heard his phone vibrate. Ignored it. It was the seventy-third time it had rung in the last three days, so he couldn't see it offering anything new. More lies, maybe. He really didn't have room for any more. Didn't have room for anything, not even in the bleeding, aching hole where he was sure his heart had once been.

Not that Nicky would know anything about that. He'd never had one to start with.

 

*

 

Nicky went in to work on Monday. He'd had to. If he'd sat around his house trying to call Mark any longer he was probably going to do something stupid, like try to go over there. But if Mark wasn't picking up calls he sure as hell wasn't going to let Nicky in the door, and Nicky didn't need to make him feel even worse. He just wanted to explain. Didn't know how to. Didn't know what possible explanation he could give, apart from saying that he was, in fact, a terrible person, but that Mark should give him a second chance anyway.

Because Nicky loved him.

He'd known it. But he hadn't realised it until now how much it would hurt. How much it would feel like something inside of him was being taken slowly, being dragged out of him, hand over hand, leaving a space where his heart had once sat, before Mark had taken it. Before he'd taken Mark's, crushed it under his boot, and thrown it back in his face.

He sat at his desk, staring blankly at his computer. Thought about actually doing his job, but couldn't. Couldn't make himself pick up the phone when every time he reached for it all he could see was a little toy ship with a terrible plastic orangutan on top. Mark's face, covered in angry, betrayed tears.

He reached over, picked it up, watched the orangutan wobble in the sticky-tape binding it down. He realised, in all his flattered excitement at getting it that he'd forgotten to name it.

He set it back down. Stared at it for a long time.

Then he told his boss he wasn't feeling well and went home.

 

*

 

It was getting into the afternoon. Mark's phone rang again. That wasn't anything new. He let it ring, stared at the sandwich he'd managed to make for himself. His stomach said he was hungry, but it couldn't quite convince his brain. He scraped it into the bin, then went back to bed.

His phone stopped ringing. Then a text came through. Then another one. He ignored it, closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep, hoping there was somewhere in his subconscious he could go to hide until he could forget this had ever happened. Forget that he'd ever been in love.

He missed Nicky. Missed being loved and cared for and kissed and held. Missed being sure that it was true. Missed being stupid and young, when none of this had been a problem, when he'd just been a shy, chubby kid with terrible hair running around in the grass, climbing haystacks and pissing off cows.

The silence was deafening, the darkness too bright. He pulled the blanket over his head and quietly hoped that when he woke up this would all prove to be a terrible, vivid nightmare.

 

*

 

Nicky sat in front of the television, a half-full bottle in his hand. Eight empty ones on the table. He was sloshed. Really needed to pee. He picked up the remote, flicking through channels for something to watch.

Bloody Titanic.

It couldn't fucking leave him alone, could it?

He watched it anyway, feeling tears roll down his face when Jack and Rose started dancing in third class, the music thumping and joyous, feeling for a moment Mark's hand on his knee, a head on his shoulder, lips on his cheek.

Turned to look at the empty seat beside him and tugged his knees to his chest, pulling away from the heavy shape that wasn't there. Drained the rest of the beer and then got up to pee.

Called Mark when he was done.

There was no answer.

There never bloody was.

 

*

 

Mark went to work on Tuesday. Managed to make it through the day okay. He deleted all the texts on his phone. Didn't even read them, just hit delete all, his finger hovering uncertainly over the button for a moment when he realised that meant deleting everything from the last month. Every sweet, pointless, random message. Every bit of evidence that Nicky had been in his life, that he'd been so idiotically happy.

He watched the little trashcan appear on his screen. The bar fill up, sweeping it all from his life.

He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse.

He went home and sat in front of the television, staring blankly for a long time. Thought about watching a DVD, but when he went to look for one all he could see on the shelf was a little plastic monkey wearing a bow of grass that was starting to turn brittle and brown around his neck.

He went to bed instead, Bernard clasped in one hand while he dropped into a fitful sleep.

 

*

 

Nicky went back to work. He was hungover. Took a nap on his desk, and when he woke up he thought he felt a hand in his, reaching up from underneath and into his lap. Realised it was his own hand a moment later, clasping around his wrist. Shook himself off and went to have an early lunch, but ended up sitting out on the lawn under a tree, staring at his hands and trying not to cry.

“Hey, Nicky!”

He looked up, got a painfully cheerful smile that had a cigarette wedged in it. Bryan wandered over, beaming, then stopped short when he saw Nicky's face.

“Shit, what happened?”

Nicky swallowed. Looked back at his hands. Remembered having larger, softer ones folded into them, remembered trailing them down a rough cheek while they exchanged tender kisses. Remembered them on his body, setting him alight.

“I fucked up, Bry.” He managed to say, though it was hoarse with tears. “What the fuck do I do?”

Bryan swallowed, sat down next to him, an arm coming around Nicky's shoulders. It was comforting enough, but the feel was all wrong, the smell. It wasn't weighted right, though that could have just been the heaviness in Nicky's heart, pushing him slowly into the ground. He leaned into it anyway, not knowing what else to do. Bryan frowned, squeezed him a little, smiled.

“Tell me all about it.”

 

*

 

Mark's mother called. He didn't reply. He couldn't. He didn't know how to explain. How to tell her that the very nice boy he'd brought home, the one he'd said he might be in love with, had just been using him. He felt utterly embarrassed, ashamed to have fallen for such an obvious trick. Didn't know how to talk to her without bursting into tears again.

He managed to go into work for the rest of the week, went through the motions. It wasn't so hard – he had plenty of free time to get up to date and be prepared for lessons, to organise something fun and distracting, got a mock Roman Senate going on and by the end of the lesson found himself laughing, however slightly, when two girls got into a bitter argument over who should be elected as their new king, Lee Ryan or Robbie Williams. In the end the boys protested, one started to filibuster over the merits of Eminem and got half the class behind him, which led to an even bigger argument.

Mark promised they'd pick up this very important discussion next week.

He went home. Spent the weekend sitting on his couch and watching television before he realised on Sunday that he had no food in the house and was sort of hungry after all. He went and got some meagre groceries, then went home and sat on the couch with a bag of crisps. He fell asleep at some point, woke up to find it dark and the television playing early morning infomercials, so he went to bed. Woke up again Monday and went back into work. Did it Tuesday as well. Focused on getting the kids ready for their end of year exams. It was October already. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised – the last month had been a bit of a blur.

 

*

 

Nicky sat in the pub on Saturday night, staring at a beer. He'd had to get out of the house or go mad, and this seemed like the least difficult way to do that. He had thought about going down to karaoke, but didn't want questions from his dad about how that nice lad he'd introduced was. Didn't want questions from anyone. Kian and Shane both kept trying to call him but he didn't want to pick up. Didn't want to start shouting at them, didn't want to hear how they were sorry and was only looking out for Mark. Didn't want to not blame them, when it was so much easier than blaming himself.

He blamed himself.

Not that it mattered, because there they were after all, coming in the front door, giggling with each other, Shane's hand in Kian's back pocket. Nicky got up to leave and then realised he couldn't be bothered. He couldn't be bothered with a lot of things.

They saw him. He didn't react. What the fuck was he supposed to say?

“Hey, Nico...” Kian stood at the corner of the table for a long moment, looking like he wanted sit down but wasn't sure. “How're ye?”

“I'm grand.” Nicky said flatly. Shane was stood beside Kian a minute later, three beers balanced in his hands. Nicky supposed that made sense, his was almost empty anyway.

“Have you spoken to...”

“No.”

Kian sank into the booth. A beer landed in front of Nicky and Shane climbed in a moment later. And here they were again, back where it had all started. Where Kian had said 'I bet' and Nicky had been stupid enough to agree. It could be the same booth, for all he knew, but he hadn't really been playing attention at the time. Hadn't spared a thought for any of it, not knowing that it had been a turning point. That within a week he'd be meeting Mark. That if Kian had never said what he had, if Nicky hadn't gotten cocky, he might never have even met Mark.

Or maybe he would have. Maybe he'd have picked Mark up on his own and everything would have worked out. Maybe he wouldn't be here, waiting for replies that never came and trying to figure out what the hell else was worth doing.

“I'm really sorry, Nicky. If we'd known...”

“I still would have been the bastard who only went out with him for a bet.” Nicky finished. “I'm still really pissed off at you, though. Don't think I'm not. I'm just more angry at myself.”

“That's fair.” Kian went silent for a long moment so Shane picked up the thread.

“So you love him?”

“I...” Nicky swallowed. “I don't know how not to love him. I can't have him back, and it hurts so fucking much I don't know how I get up in the morning knowing he's hurting worse. That he hates me. I...” He shook his head. “I just want him to know it wasn't a joke, you know? That he wasn't. How much he's worth. He's worth everything and I can't...” He felt the tears start and gulped them back. “I can't fix it. I don't know how.”

“I heard Bryan on the radio yesterday.”

“That was his mad idea.” Nicky snorted. “I don't even know if Mark's heard it yet. Maybe he hasn't. I don't know what he's been doing. How he's feeling. I...” He shut up. There was no point saying all this, anyway. Shane nudged the beer slightly closer, so Nicky took a long swallow. Stood up.

“Where you going?”

“Home.” Nicky shrugged. His bed still smelled of Mark – he couldn't bring himself to wash the sheets, clean it from his life. He thought he'd probably climb into it when he got home, press his face into the pillow and read all his texts again, the hundreds of sweet, throwaway conversations he'd exchanged over the last month. It was all he seemed to be doing lately. “See ya, lads.”

“If there's anything we...”

“There isn't.” Nicky shook his head, cutting Kian off. Heading for the door.

 

*

 

Mark managed to make it through another few days. It wasn't so bad, he supposed. Or it wasn't when he was at work, keeping himself occupied and trying not to think.

He'd been trying not to think a lot lately.

But then when he went home it was there. Staring him in the face like a plastic monkey on a shelf, like the t-shirt he'd found when he finally managed to do some laundry and ended up sitting on the bed for twenty minutes trying to figure out whether to throw it away or press his face to it and breathe in Nicky's scent. Had ended up just holding it instead, remembering Nicky fill it out, then later, pulling it over his head and tossing it against the wall to get mixed up in Mark's stuff while they'd made out on his bed, giggling and gasping and...

He folded it up neatly and shoved it in the back of his sock drawer. He'd figure out what to do with it later, when he didn't need a drink.

Mark was coming out of class a little later on Wednesday afternoon when he heard it. Heard the soft, opening strains of music and felt his heart leap illogically until he got a handle on it and realised he was being stupid. Quickened his steps a little anyway, turning the corner, not knowing what he expected to see.

Two girls and a boy, sitting around an old battered radio. Waiting for their parents to pick them up, if he was any judge. They saw him and one raised a hand in polite greeting.

“Hey, Mr Feehily. Alright?”

“Yeah, just heard...” He shook his head. Of course. “Haven't heard that song on the radio in forever.”

“Yeah, it's a crap... erm.” The boy blushed, realising he'd just sort of sworn in front of a teenager. Mark managed not to laugh. “Bad song.”

“It's so romantic!” One of the girls scolded. “If I was this lad I'd forgive him in a heartbeat. It's lovely.”

“It's not awful...” The boy backtracked quickly, glancing at the girl. He was obviously looking to get a bit of the shift later, wanted to make a good impression, trying to seem cool but say what she wanted to hear. Mark sort of knew all about that. “But, you know, they've played it every bloody day this week.”

“Yeah, but it's gorgeous!” The other girl clasped her hands to her chest, looking a little swoony. She looked up at Mark. “It's lovely. Bryan's been playing it every day for a week at four o'clock. For Mark, from Nicky, who's sorry.” She recited. Mark felt his heart drop. “If a lad did that for me, I'd be straight on.”

“I suppose it depends what he did.” The first girl pointed out, while Mark tried to keep his face straight, not burst into tears. “Like, did he cheat or something? Or was it just behaving like a bit of a jerk?”

“If it was just something little he probably wouldn't be begging through the radio, though.” The boy argued. “I don't think he forgot to do the dishes or something. You don't play Celine Dion for a week because you didn't notice their new haircut.”

“If my brother's boyfriend did that, I reckon he'd be made up.” The second girl laughed. “Not that song, probably, bit naff, but getting on the radio like that.”

“Connie!” She turned to look. There was a blonde boy with a goatee, leaning out the window of a car. She began to collect her things.

“There he is. You're late again, Jeremy!” She waved at the others, glanced quickly at Mark. He realised he'd overstayed his welcome, but his feet were rooted to the spot.

He forced himself to move, checked they had rides home, and headed back to his own car.

Sat there for a long time.

 

*

 

“I don't know, Bry. Maybe we should just give it up.”

“Piss on that!” Bryan turned to look at him, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he gasped in mock-outrage. “You know how much bloody mail we've been getting on this? How many calls? I've had the papers wanting to know who this Nicky bloke is who cocked up so badly! It's been six days and it's practically an institution!”

Nicky shrugged. He knew all this. People had been ringing in all week.

“Has Mark called, though?”

“...no.” Bryan admitted. “Heard anything?”

Nicky shook his head. No, not a word. He didn't want to talk to the papers. Didn't want to identify himself and potentially incriminate Mark. It might put his job at risk and just make things worse.

He just wanted to talk to Mark. Just for a second. Just see him. Mark sure he was okay. That he wasn't the broken wreck Nicky was.

“End of the week.” Bryan urged. “Let's just go until Friday and see what happens.”  
  
“Bry...” Nicky sighed. Two more days. Two more attempts at telling Mark that his Heart did, in fact, Go On. “Okay. Friday. And then...”

“Then what? You're gonna give up?”

“No. Yes. No.” He swallowed. “I don't know what else to do.”

“You in on Friday?” Nicky nodded. “Cool. Take an early mark. You should be there for the last play. Come sit with us while we do it, yeah? Who knows? You might get lucky.”

Nicky doubted it, but he nodded anyway.

He didn't know what else to do.

 

*

 

Mark listened to The Bryan McFadden Show in his car on Thursday afternoon. He'd pulled into a parking lot halfway home, hadn't been able to drive for the tears in his eyes when he heard Bryan say 'and this is to Mark, from Nicky, who's sorry'. Had braked just as the opening strains of My Heart Will Go On started and didn't move again until the next block of ads was almost over.

He went home. Got the post. Went to make dinner. Opened the mail while he waited for the microwave to heat up a packet of rice for one.

Bill. Bill. Flier from a real estate agent. One from a bank asking if he wanted a new credit card. One from his mam. He tore it open, yelped as the contents spilled out onto the floor.

Nicky.

Nicky peering up at him. Smiling. Laughing. Over and over again. He scooped the photos up slowly, trying not to look at them. They were like an echo. All because his mother didn't see the point of a digital camera.

Nicky, sitting next to him at the table while they ate sandwiches, arm draped over the back of Mark's chair. Nicky, kicking a football to Barry while Colin tended a makeshift goal between a bucket and a fencepost. Nicky, pulling a face at the camera, eyes crossed and tongue out.

Nicky.

Nicky, sat on a rock overlooking the lough. Taken just before the walk, if he was right. Mark was just in view, standing obliviously near the house, talking to his dad. His mother must have taken this at some point without him noticing.

The light was catching Nicky's hair, turning it gold. He had his chin rested in one hand, was looking towards Mark, his eyes soft, lip bitten over a small smile.

Mark stared at it for a long time. Then he took the photos and put them inside Nicky's folded up t-shirt, pushed them back in the sock drawer.

He jumped when the microwave dinged. Opened it. Wasn't hungry. Reached for his phone. It was answered after two rings, and he didn't bother with niceties.

“Mam... can I come home for a few days? Please?”

She said that was fine.

 


	16. Chapter 16

It felt empty, not being able to talk to Mark. He felt he had a thousand stupid observations, a million silly thoughts all trapped inside him, arguing over each other and trying to get out. Things he'd text, normally, then look forward to the response. Now all his texts just seemed to say the same damn thing.

**I'm sorry.**

**I love you.**

**Please talk to me.**

**I'm sorry.**

That was what he needed to say. What he wanted to say was that the new Tescos ad was bloody awful. That he was thinking about growing his hair but wasn't sure. That his socks were sort of rubbing his big toe. That the girl in the cubicle next door kept cracking her knuckles. That he was saving Mark a chocolate sprinkle donut.

He stared at it. It was on his desk but he hadn't been able to eat it. Hadn't been able to eat yesterday's either. He'd watch it sit there until it was stale. His boss told him to stop leaving food out or it would attract ants. He tried not to burst into tears.

He checked his watch. Quarter to four. He'd chosen four o'clock, knew it would time up more or less with Mark getting in the car to drive home.

Last day. Then he was done. His heart couldn't take it.

He sent another text.

**I love you.**

**I'm sorry.**

 

*

 

Mark had packed before he left that morning, needing to get on the road as soon as possible after work. He drifted aimlessly through classes. There was a bank holiday on Monday and it was obvious. They looked as disinterested as he felt.

He got in the car just before three-thirty. Got on the motorway. By three forty-eight he'd decided not to listen. By three fifty-two he'd decided to find a place to park. By three fifty-seven he was sat in a McDonalds parking lot, staring at the silent, blank read-out on his car radio.

Reached out to turn it on. Pulled his hand back. Scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to think.

Turned it on.

There was a commercial for hair-growth cream. Mark waited, sort of wanting this over with. Sort of wanting it to last forever. Then Bryan was back.

“And... it's that time again! Eighth day in a row. We've been getting emails about this, texts, I even had a couple of hand-written letters come in.” He laughed. “We thought you'd all gotten sick of this one when the movie came out, but it looks like you can't get enough.”

Mark thought about turning it off. Turned it up instead.

“And after this, we're going to talk to the man himself! Nicky's in the studio with me now, so stay tuned. This is My Heart Will Go On, by Celine Dion, and this is for Mark, from Nicky, who's sorry.”

The flute started up. Mark stared at the radio for a long moment, then pulled his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on top.

Okay.

 

*

 

“Bryan, Jesus!” Nicky cried the moment the microphones were turned off. “What did you say that for?”

Bryan laughed, swivelling in his chair. Nicky glared. Bryan reached out, put a hand on his. Nicky realised he was panicking.

“Last play, lad. You want to tell Mark you're sorry? Stop fucking hiding behind Celine Dion and do it yourself. You always said you wanted to be on the radio, so here's your chance.”

“Bry...” Nicky bit his lip, trying to figure out the best way to escape. “I can't. I don't know what to say.”

“Sorry's a good start.” Bryan shrugged. “What would you say if he was here?”

“I... I don't know. I...” Nicky stammered to a stop.

“Well, sort it out quickly. Ooh, calls are coming in!” He gave his producer the thumbs up, got one back. “People want to know, lad. Mark wants to know. If you've got one bloody chance...” He shrugged, reaching over to flick a couple of switches. “You've got two and a half minutes to figure it out.” He looked at Nicky. “So start thinking.”

 

*

 

Celine Dion warbled her way through her last few notes. Mark's heart was in his throat. He didn't know why. Nicky had been saying all sorts of things this week, had been texting and calling almost constantly. But this was real, somehow. This was being able to listen without admitting that he had. Being able to blank it out if he needed to.

He didn't know if he needed to.

He though about turning it off. Didn't. Stared at it instead, as though he could watch the words come out.

“And we're back! Here with Nicky, who has been requesting this thing for almost two weeks now. Phones are lighting up like mad, but while we love hearing what you have to say, this is Nicky's floor for the minute. Do you reckon Mark's listening?”

“I...” It was Nicky's voice. Hoarse and quiet, but undeniably Nicky's. “I hope so.”

“I do too, otherwise what's the point? People have bloody loved this. Admittedly we've gotten a few from people who haven't been so nice, but we've been printing them all out and using them to heat the producer's booth. They burn really well. Alan's bloody loving it, aren't you Alan?” There was the canned sound of crackling flames. “Exactly. Nicky, gonna take a wild guess and say you screwed up?”

“Yeah.” There was a soft, nervous laugh. “You could say that, mate. Yeah.”

“And Mark. Love him?”

“Yeah. I do. I...” Nicky swallowed. Mark heard it. Could see his throat moving, even though he was staring at his own hands. “He's the best thing that ever happened to me. I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I don't expect to be forgiven, and I don't expect to be taken back, but... if he's out there. If you're out there, babe, I...”

He swallowed again. Mark did too, trying to suck back tears.

“I love you. I never wanted to hurt you and I just wanted you to know that you're worth everything in the world. That every minute I spent with you was the best one of my life. That I'm so sorry for what I did, but that I'm so glad I met you, that I had you for a bit because... because you were perfect. You were always enough. More than enough. I didn't deserve you.” He trailed off.

“And...”

“I...” Nicky interrupted. Paused for a second, breathing. “I just want you to be happy. It's all I want. I named the orangutan. His name's Patrick, and he's really alone on that boat all by himself, but he thinks maybe if there's not room on the door for both of them then... then he's happy to be in the water by himself. I...” He swallowed again. “That's it. I love you.”

“...right.” Bryan sounded confused. Mark felt like he was about to throw up or cry. “So we'll go to the phones. Alan, who we got?”

Mark turned off the radio. He couldn't listen any more.

He looked down at his phone for a long minute.

Picked it up.

Started to thumb in a text.

 

*

 

They'd just gone to a commercial break after a few swooning phone calls. One had asked if Nicky was available now. Bryan told him to keep dreaming.

Nicky's phone beeped.

He pulled it out of his pocket.

Mark.

“Fuck.” He whispered. Looked up at Bryan, who was staring at him.

“Go on!” He hissed. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”

Nicky nodded, took a deep breath. Opened the text.

**Patrick's a fucking idiot.**

He laughed. Couldn't help himself. Covered his mouth.

He started to text back, ignoring Bryan's questioning look.

 

*

 

His phone beeped. Mark picked it up.

**I saved you a chocolate sprinkle donut** .

He laughed, feeling tears spill down his cheeks.

 

*

 

Home was nice. Mark went in, dumped his stuff and hung out with his family for a bit. Just watched a movie, had some dinner, chilled out. His phone didn't beep again, but he didn't really mind. Just sat in front of the TV then went to sleep early, snuggling up in his old single bed. He didn't mention it, didn't mention any of it. It was just easier. His mam asked whether Nicky was coming up and he said no, he was busy at work. Left it at that.

When he got up in the morning everybody was asleep. He went for a walk, sat on a rock overlooking the lough and watched the sun come up. Realised belatedly that it was the same rock Nicky had sat on in the photo he'd gotten. Didn't mind, really. When he finally went back in there was dew on the lawn and his dad was making scrambled eggs.

His phone beeped.

**I can't find my bloody nail clippers. You seen them?**

Mark snorted, put his phone back down. Picked it back up again.

**No. Did they go under the couch again?**

He ate his breakfast. Eggs on toast with a mountain of bacon. Went back upstairs for a shower, then headed outside to help his mam with the garden. Was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea a few hours later when he got another text.

**Found them! They were in the freezer. Don't know why.**

**Is there ice-cream under the couch? Did you get confused?**

**I'm always confused.**

Mark put the phone back in his pocket, shaking his head.

Bloody hell.

 

*

 

Nicky lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. There wasn't much else to do. He stared at his phone, waiting for it to beep. He'd been doing that all day.

It beeped. He almost cheered.

**I just saw a sheep that looked like Wayne Rooney.**

Home. Mark had gone home.

He went to get his keys, and ran down the stairs.

 

*

 

It was getting late into the afternoon. Mark had gone for a walk, had just wanted to get off by himself for a bit. It was cold, getting into the end of the year now. He remembered, idly, that it was Nicky's birthday in less than a week. Next Thursday. He'd never ended up getting him a present.

There was a swan floating over in the distance, the cave he was sat in breaking the wind rushing off the water a bit. He pulled his jacket tighter, holding his gloves up to his face and breathing out, warming his nose.

There was a noise in the bushes. He ignored it. Probably a bird or something. He was used enough to the constant, rustling sounds of life getting on with itself, doing it's own thing regardless of any input from him. It was nice, sort of. Not mattering. Being alone. Being above it all.

He missed mattering. Mattering in a way that wasn't his parents or his students or keeping up on his taxes.

There was another noise. He looked up. Heard someone swear.

A shape stumbled into the clearing. It was black and brown and covered in mud, blonde hair plastered down and full of grass.

Mark laughed. He couldn't help himself.

“Oh, thank god.” Nicky sighed, looking up. “I thought I'd gotten bloody lost. I fell in a puddle. Got turned around and then there was an owl and...” He stopped. Went very still all of a sudden, staring at Mark. “Hey."

“Hey.” Mark nodded back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Nicky stepped a little closer. He didn't look himself at all. Was wearing baggy khaki cargo pants and a bulky black parka, his hair free of gel and flat, going a little fluffy on one side where it was drying. “I saw a spider.”

“Did you survive?” Mark smiled. Nicky grinned, reaching up to wipe mud of his face.

“I fought him off.” Nicky bit his lip. He was still standing about thirty feet away, his face split under the shadow of a huge tree. “Can I...?” He stopped, swallowing. “Is it alright if I come sit near you?”

Mark nodded silently, shifted over a bit when Nicky started tramping towards him, just about rocking in the weight of the parka. He looked ridiculous. He looked gorgeous.

“Cheers.” Nicky sat down next to him with a huff, not touching, not even close, really. Leaned against the stone wall opposite, knees awkwardly curled to his chest. Mark regarded him, not sure what to say.

“You got outside clothes.” He commented finally.

“Yeah.” Nicky nodded. “I thought if I was going to keep coming up here I better have something more appropriate. You know.” He bit his lip. “Not um... I bought them before... you know. Thought it'd be a surprise.”

“It definitely is.” Mark agreed. “You're covered in mud.”

Nicky wiped his face with his sleeve. Mark watched. Watched smooth skin be revealed through the muck, slight stubble.

“How's that?”

“Better.” He shrugged. “Not great.”

“How are you?”

“Not great.” He repeated. He looked at Nicky. “You lied to me.”

“No.” Nicky bit his lip. “I didn't... say the reason we met, but I never lied.”

“Same thing.”

“Yeah, it probably is.” Nicky sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I know it's an obvious thing to say, but I'm really sorry. I never meant...” He swallowed. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I didn't want to lose you. You were so beautiful and perfect and I didn't want to ruin it. And then I did.” He looked at Mark. “What are you thinking?”

“I don't know.” Mark explained honestly. “I've been trying not to think too much. It hurts less.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You said.” He bit his lip. “Why are you here?”

“I couldn't be anywhere else.” Nicky shrugged. “I didn't know what else to do. The whole drive up all I could think was 'this is mad, you crazy fucking stalker', but then I just kept going. Your mam said you were out here. You didn't tell her...”

“No.” Mark sighed. “I didn't know what to say. How to...” He shook his head. “What was I supposed to say?”

“I don't know.” Nicky admitted. “What did you want to say?”

“I don't know.” Mark stood up to stretch his legs. Looked down. Nicky was still there, leaning against the side of the cave, looking at him expectantly. He stepped out into the dusk light, staring at the water. A series of ripples skipped over it, and then there was a splash, a fish grabbing whatever insect had disturbed the surface. He ran a hand over his face, trying to think.

“Mark...”

“Shut up.” He said softly. “Not now.” He breathed in deep, trying to figure out what to say, feeling the cogs in his brain start to turn for the first time in days. Found a tree to lean against, comforted by the feeling of something propping him up. He could hear Nicky breathing behind him, amplified by the cave. Turned back, saw a small, muddy figure sitting in the darkness, dwarfed by a stone mouth.

He picked up a rock. Tossed it carefully. It skipped twice then disappeared with a plunk. He looked back at Nicky. Saw a small, nervous smile.

He swallowed hard, trying to think.

 

*

 

Mark was quiet. Nicky had watched him for long minutes, wanting to say something. Wanting to fill the silence somehow, his throat too thick to speak. A bird called, and he flinched, saw Mark roll his eyes.

“Wimp.”

Nicky laughed, resting his chin in one hand. It was getting darker and he pulled his parka tighter, wishing he had gloves. He tried to tuck his hands into the sleeves but they weren't long enough and he pressed them to his chest instead, shivering.

“It's cold.”

“Oh, for...” Mark rolled his eyes. He tugged his gloves off, tossed them in Nicky's direction. Nicky caught them, nodding gratefully, and watched Mark pull his hands back into his sleeves, gripping the ends closed so he looked like a big penquin. “You really aren't good at the country, are you?”

“Not at all.” Nicky laughed. The gloves were still warm from Mark's hands. He slipped his own into them, felt them envelope him. Mark shook his head, grinning.

“Dickhead.”

“Yeah.” Nicky agreed. “I um... I really missed you.”

“I... missed you too.” Nicky felt a rush of happiness blurt through his system, then recede uncertainly when Mark turned away. “But I don't know if that was even you that I was missing. If any of it was real. It's...” He sighed, turned back again. “What am I supposed to think? I was so fucking scared, you know? I only slept with Kian to see what it was like. If I really was gay. And then suddenly...” He shrugged. Nicky felt his heart drop when he realised.

Oh.

Of course.

God, it all made sense.

“You... that was your first time? With Kian?”

Mark hesitated for a moment. He obviously hadn't meant to say anything. Then he nodded.

“Guess we both left things out.”

“Oh god.” Nicky breathed. “I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have...” He gulped back sudden shame. “It shouldn't have been like that. It should have been special. Like you. You didn't deserve...” He stood up as well, edged over to Mark, feeling his knees stiffen in the cold. “I'm so sorry. If I'd known...”

“What?”

“I would have...” Nicky bit his lip. “I would have made it better. Would have made it...” He reached out, put a hand on Mark's shoulder, felt him warm and alive for the first time in weeks, the heat soaking through his glove. “I wish it had been special.”  
  
“It was. With you, it was.” Mark said softly. “And that was the worst part. Because it wasn't true.”

“It was.” Nicky murmured. “I felt like I was flying.”

“Yeah.” Mark nodded. “I know what that's like.” He looked at Nicky. “Was your first time special?”

“It...” Nicky chuckled, remembering. “Do you really want to hear this?” Mark nodded. “Okay. It was... good. It was with a very nice boy who was a couple of years older than me. I was seventeen, had no idea what I was doing, and I think I ended up laughing through it more than anything else. He was just nice to me.” He looked at Mark, got a tentative smile back. “That's not very interesting, is it?”

“It's lovely.” Mark mumbled. Nicky wanted to kiss him, all of a sudden. Held off. He reached up instead, brushing gloved knuckles over a cold, red nose. Mark didn't pull back. “I'm so angry.”

“Yeah.” Nicky pulled his hand away. “That's fair.” He picked up a rock and tried to skim it but failed miserably when it just plopped noisily through the surface. “Whoops.”

“Here.” Mark bent down, raking through the stones on the surface with a bare hand. He selected one, held it up to inspect it, then handed it to Nicky. “Try this one.”

Nicky nodded, lined it up, then let it fly. It managed one skip before sinking. He heard Mark laugh behind him.

“Good try.”

“I need more practice.” Nicky admitted. He turned to look at Mark. “Can... can I call you? When we get back to Dublin? I'd like to call you.”

“I don't know.” Mark was studying him, his eyes assessing. “I think I need to be by myself for a bit. Don't come back to the house, okay?”

Nicky nodded. He didn't know what he'd expected, but it wasn't much more than this. Was a lot less, if anything. Mark was actually talking to him, which was quite a bit more than he'd thought would happen. He'd half expected to be upside down in the lake by now.

“Okay.” He bent to get another stone. This one looked fine, but when he went to throw it Mark put a cold hand on his wrist, stopping it. He bent, found a better one, and handed it to Nicky.

“Here.”

“Thanks.” Nicky pulled his arm back, glancing at Mark. “I love you.”

Mark nodded, bent to pick up his own rock.

“I know.” He said quietly.

 

*

 

Nicky went home. Mark wished him well, told him to drive safely in the dark, then went inside to let his parents know Nicky couldn't stay for dinner. He went to bed early, exhausted.

He was almost asleep when his phone beeped, the electric glow brightening the room for a moment.

He reached over to get it and opened the message.

**Why does the fridge have a light, but not the freezer?**

He laughed to himself, stared at it for a long time, then put it down, tucking himself up in the warmth of the blankets.

 

*

 

Nicky let himself back into the darkened house, listening out as usual for suspicious noises. It wasn't awfully late, but the natural paranoia of living alone was hard to shake, especially when he'd been so used to there being someone there recently. Hearing random singing and the familiar noises of Mark tripping over something or shifting in a chair.

He put his filthy clothes in the wash and had a quick shower. He found Mark's gloves in the parka pocket just before it went in. Looked at them for a long time, then went to bed, tugging the gloves on and feeling them warm on his skin while he lay in bed, the blankets pulled up to his neck.

 


	17. Chapter 17

The pub was packed. Nicky squeezed his way between people, trying to make his way back to the table. Shane and Kian had organised it, had invited pretty much every one they knew. Old football mates, people from Nicky's work that weren't terrible company, family members... his parents were around here somewhere, though he hadn't seen them since they'd gone to get some food, and that had been a while ago.

It was nice, seeing everybody, being surrounded by people when he'd been so alone the last few weeks. But it was his birthday and the lads had insisted. He suspected it was partly to make up for what had happened, but he didn't mind either way, not with a pint in him and a few more on the way, some terrible nineties music on the jukebox, and the promise of cake.

He sank back down into the booth, laughing when Shane handed him a party hat. He put it on, tilting it a little so it would at least look like a fashion statement. Kian laughed, straightening it back up again.

“Happy Birthday, Nico.”

“You've said that like twelve times.” He retorted. Kian shook his head, lifting his beer to his lips. “This is brilliant, lads. Thanks.”

“No problem. Twenty-bloody-five. How's the arthritis?”

“Piss off, Ki.” Nicky grinned, looked over at Shane, who was giggling, sat next to his brother Finbarr. He was in town a few days and Shane had brought him in and introduced him. Seemed a nice enough sort, even if he did look a bit baffled and overwhelmed. “Anyway, where's my presents?”

“What presents?” Kian asked. “This is the present. Drinks are on us.”

Nicky shook his head, remembering the last time there'd been an offer of free drinks. It looked like he would have gotten them regardless.

His phone beeped.

 **Bloody Titanic's on**.

He laughed, putting it back in his pocket. Mark knew he was out, had declined to come. Nicky understood, though he was a little disappointed. It had been less than a week since they'd sort-of started texting again, since Nicky had gotten three levels of filthy trying to find Mark in the bloody Sligo jungle. He didn't expect much more, though they had been texting all week. Not mentioning it, just silly things about what they were doing or thinking. It made him feel not so alone, that Mark was there, somewhere, in his life.

**Where's it up to?**

**About half an hour in.**

“Stop texting at the table!” Kian scolded. “Antisocial?”

“I am being social, just not with you.” He shot back. Finbarr laughed slightly, and Nicky smirked. The music changed. It had been quality pap all night. Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, Aqua, Deee-lite. MmmBop was just finishing up. It was quality. He leaned back in the booth, looking around. “This is great, lads. Thanks. I needed this.”

“Yeah, you're welcome.” Kian nodded. He glanced at Shane, then back. “So erm... how's things going?”

“Okay. I don't know, really. Maybe it's nothing, but... I spoke to him at least.” He shrugged. “I just wanted to make things better. For him, not for me. So if I've done that...” He picked up his pint, had a mouthful. “Dunno. Figure I did the big gesture, now I've just gotta get the little ones right.”

“That was mental, though. Celine Dion. And then on the last day...” Shane laughed, turning to Finbarr. “Did you hear about the dickhead who played My Heart Will Go On every day on the radio to get his fella back?”

“That was you?” Finbarr looked surprised. “Everybody was talking about it at work! That was mad. What happened?”

“Not much.” Nicky shrugged. Which was true. It hadn't. But still, it was a thousand times more than he'd expected. “He's...” His phone beeped again.

**Billy Zane's such a dick.**

He laughed, texted quickly back.

**You are.**

“We're sort of talking again.” He finished. “Sort of. It's something, anyway. Maybe things'll work out, or maybe they won't but... at least he's in my life, you know? That's enough for now.”

“Right.” Finbarr nodded. “Gotta ask, though. Who's Patrick?”

Nicky laughed. Of course. Bryan had gotten a few calls about that one, wondering how an orangutan called Patrick had ended up on a boat. He wasn't going to explain it on air, though. It was too ridiculous, too wonderful.

“He's a stupid orangutan who misses the hell out of a monkey called Bernard.” He stated, then left it at that, enjoying the confused looks on their faces. “Anyway, I'm about out of beer, so...”

“Wait...” Nicky looked up at the voice next to him. Felt his heart lurch, his breath catch. Mark leaned over, tipping his full pint over Nicky's empty one, until they were both about half-full. He spilled a little on the table, but it didn't matter. Nicky held his breath until he was done, watching the concentration on Mark's face. “There you go.”

“Hey.” Nicky said softly.

“Hey.” Mark said back, shifting nervously. “Happy Birthday.”

Kian and Shane were gone, all of a sudden. Shane dragged Finbarr with him, who just looked bewildered. Mark sat down opposite Nicky in the space they vacated, lifting his beer to his mouth.

“You came.” Nicky stated.

“Yeah. Kian texted me about an hour ago.” Mark nodded. “Said you were acting like a sadsack piece of shit, if I wanted to come visit. I said no thanks.”

“And then?”

“And then bloody Titanic came on, and I thought 'fuck it'.”

Nicky laughed. “Sorry you missed it.”

“It's fine. I've only seen it about three hundred times.” Mark grinned. “You feel old yet?”

“I feel ancient.” Nicky confirmed. “Really tired and old and...” He shook his head, then laughed. “Thanks for coming.”

Mark nodded, reaching a hand out over the table. Nicky took it, felt his fingers fold into a larger, softer grip for the first time in what felt like years. It squeezed lightly, then relaxed. Nicky stared at it, trying to stop himself leaping across the table and into Mark's arms.

There'd be time for that later.

 

*

 

Cake came. It was a huge tray of cupcakes with candles stuck in each one. Mark watched the glow of them light up Nicky's face before he blew them all out, his face red and determined as he tried to get them all in one go. They sang Happy Birthday, gave three cheers, and then Mark sank back into the crowd, looking for something to keep himself occupied while Nicky was the centre of attention.

It didn't last long. Nicky found him up at the bar a few minutes later and sat down, reaching for his hand.

“Hey.” Mark took it, then smiled when it was turned over and a cupcake pressed into it. He looked at it for a minute, then laughed. “Chocolate sprinkles.”

“Only the best for you.” Nicky winked. “How've you been? How's work?”

“Work's fine. I'm... better.” Mark nodded. “You?”

“Same, more or less.” Nicky took a bite of his own cupcake, which was covered in blue icing. “It doesn't...” He hesitated, swallowed, looked like he was trying to figure out how to say what he was thinking. “It doesn't _work_ without you.” He looked up. “Just... getting up and going to work and coming home and eating dinner and going to bed and...” Mark squeezed his hand, listening to his own feelings get shaped into words. “I can do that. I did it before, but now... it doesn't make sense. It feels pointless.”

“I keep forgetting what I'm doing.” Mark admitted. “I'll be getting a cup of tea and then forget to put the hot water in, and it's just a bag and cold milk.” He took a deep breath, trying to slow his heart. “And then I think 'bloody hell, it's only been a month, you idiot'.”

“It was a good month.”

“It was a great month.” He took a bite of his own cupcake, peeling back the coloured paper a little bit to get to it, trying to think over his words as he chewed. It was delicious, all rich chocolate icing and vanilla sponge. He swallowed. “I was madly in love, as stupid as that sounds. Maybe I got swept up a bit, forgot to be sensible about things. Life's not a fairytale, you know? You've actually got to stop shagging for five seconds every now and then and look at it. Make sure everything else works.”

“The shagging was good, though.”

“The shagging was excellent.” Nicky gave him a small, cheeky grin that made him want to be really inappropriate despite the delicate situation. But he'd been telling the truth. It was no good putting all the physical stuff between them. Everything else had to work too, or what was the point? “It's not the shagging I miss.”

“No.” Nicky sighed, leaning his chin on one hand. Mark looked at him, looked at his... 'boyfriend' didn't sound right, but 'ex' wasn't it either. He looked at Nicky, who looked back. “I'm so in love with you I can't cope, fairytale or not. I'm in love with the way you made me feel. I wanted to make you feel like that too.”

“You did.” Mark hesitated. Saw the pained expression on Nicky's face. “You do.” He added softly. “Can we... go have lunch or something one day? Not at each other's places or as a date or anything, but just... sit down somewhere and eat food?”

“I'd really like that.” Nicky nodded. Mark felt like he was going to start crying, but that was probably a crime at someone's birthday party. Nicky reached out and took his hand, and Mark tentatively let their fingers link together. “Is this okay?”

Mark bit his lip, looked at their joined hands, then back up again. Nicky's eyes were shining, a smile hiding in them that was nothing but sweetness and acceptance and love.

“Yeah.” Mark said quietly. “Let's start with that.”


End file.
